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Number 56 



July, 1903 

GARETH AND LYNETTE 

AND OTHER IDYLLS 



I 



BY 






ALFRED TENNYSON 

WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY 
EDWARD EVERETT HALE, Jr.. Ph.D. 



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GARETH AND LYNETTE 

AND OTHER IDYLLS 



BY 

ALFEED Tennyson 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 

BY 

EDWARD EVERETT HALE, Jr., Ph.D. 

PROFESSOR OP ENGLISH, UNION COLLEGE 



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CONTENTS 



PAGE 

INTRODUCTION 

The Idylls of the King vii 

The Story and the Characters ix 

The Symbolism of the "Idylls" xii 

The Poetic Form: Meter xiv 

The Poetic Form: Diction xix 

Important Dates in Tennyson's Life xxi 

GARETH AND LYNETTE 1 

LANCELOT AND ELAINE ..."...-. 50 
THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 97 



INTRODUCTION. 



The Idylls of the King. 

^The Idylls of the King '' is Tennyson's rendering of 
the story of King Arthur and the Round Table. Wherever the 
story really may have had its beginning, it has practically 
become the national legend of England, and in every century 
it has appeared in English literature. ( W^e need not stop to 
speak of early chroniclers like Neunius^ who wrote in the eighth 
century /or Geoffrey of Monmouth in the twelfth. Tliey were 
writing mstory, and they wrote what they had heard about 
King Arthur just as we now would write about Columbus. 
Nor need we stop to speak of poets like Wace or Layamon in 
the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, or the many poets, Eng- 
lish, French and German, who followed them. Their poems 
are in the highest degree interesting to the student. The gen- 
eral reader, however, will hardly turn to them. It is the less 
necessary for him to do so, because we have in English a book 
which gives us the quintessence of the story of Arthur. The 
'' Morte d'Arthur," by Sir Thomas Malory, is in itself a noble 
piece of prose^ the finest thing of the fifteenth century, and it 
is also the storehouse or the quarry for all who would know 
King Arthur and the Round Table. It is practically repre- 
sentative of the story of Arthur in the Middle Ages. 

But King Arthur has also his place in modern English liter- 
ature. A hundred years after Malory, Spenser in the " Faerie 
Queene," gave the legend a fantastic form very characteristic 
of the days of Elizabeth. Milton afterward had the legend 
in mind as a subject for a great work, but he never wrote on 
it; the subject was not such as the Puritan mind could best ap- 
preciate. Of the eighteenth century poets some of the weaker 



Vlll INTRODUCTION. 

turned to King Arthur, but in the nineteenth, with the revival 
of romance, he became a chief figure. 

As such he was often in Tennyson's mind. In " The Lady 
of Shalott " (1833), in '' Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere" 
(1842), and "Sir Galahad" (1842) we have an indication of 
the way that subjects from the legend kept a place in his 
mind. In the last-named year he published *' Morte 
d 'Arthur," a fragment of an epic, in twelve books, as he ex- 
plained in a prelude. We need not suppose from this prelude 
that Tennyson at this time had really written more of the 
poem than he then printed, but he may well have planned 
some larger treatment. Sixteen years later he published 
" The Idylls of the King," four poems, " Enid," " Vivien," 
'' Elaine," '^ Guinevere," connected together only by belong- 
ing all to the same round of legend and by certain contrasts 
and relations in subject-matter. But even here his intention 
was not to create any single poem ; these poems were idylls, 
pictures of the life of the days of chivalry, and exhibiting also 
contrasting phases of character. 

It was not until 1869 that Tennyson presented these four 
Idylls and the previous fragment to the world as a single 
poem. In that year he published the first four Idylls, and 
also " The Coming of Arthur," " The Holy Grail," " Pelleas 
and Ettarre,'^ and the early fragment under the title, "The 
Passing of Arthur." The eight poems were gathered as a 
connected series. In 1871 " The Last Tournament " was 
added; in 1872 " Gareth and Lynette"and the concluding 
lines " To the Queen "; in 1885 " Balin and Balan "; in 1888 
" Enid," already divided into two parts, became " The Mar- 
riage of Geraint " and " Geraint and Enid," and the poem 
stood as it stands to-day. 

Its subject is the life, the work and the death of King 
Arthur. It takes its material from Sir Thomas Malory (ex- 
cept in one or two cases), but it tells the story in a very differ- 
ent way. It takes the legend for granted, as we may say. 



INTRODUCTION. IX 

aud presents it by a dozen poems which are mostly episodes 
in the main story. The first and last poems and the idyll 
" Guinevere " are the only ones which deal chiefly with the 
story of Arthur himself. The others indicate it indirectly. 
It is well, therefore, to have an idea of the main lines of that 
story. 

The Story and the Characters. 

On the death of Uther Pendragon, King of the Britons, 
Arthur comes to the throne, a mysterious King, who shall 
right all wrong aud redeem all England from evil. He 
begins his work with the greatest success: he overcomes ail 
doubters and rebels; he repels the heathen Saxons and the 
invading Eomans; he cleanses the realm from all evil-doers 
within; he founds the Round Table, an order of knighthood 
devoted to the ideal of the highest life. Now he sees and 
loves Guinevere, the daughter of one of the lesser kings of 
Britain. He marries her, confident that so only can he attain 
perfect success in his work. 

Here begins his downfall. Guinevere is unfaithful to him, 
and her sin with Lancelot gradually extends its influence to 
the undoing of all that the King has done. It gives life 
to evil in ever-varying form, so that Arthur finally sees the 
work of his hands brought almost to naught. At the end his 
very kingdom is threatened. He arms and meets the attack 
and puts it down, but is himself wounded almost to death, 
and is borne away as mysteriously as he has come. 

Such is the main action of the ''Idylls." But instead of 
a continuous narrative in which the King is hero or chief 
actor, we have a number of separate poems, each of which, 
beside its independent interest, gives some indication of the 
main story. No one of the '' Idylls," however, can be said to 
tell the main story, or even a part of it, except '' Guinevere," 
and to some extent "Lancelot and Elaine," and the two 



X INTRODUCTION. 

poems which are directly intended as introduction and con- 
clusion. 

The story is of the life, the work, and the death of King 
Arthur. But the separate poems almost all illustrate phases 
of Arthur's later life, and present not so much the triumphant 
success of the King as the gradual decline of the Round 
Table. 

*'The Coming of Arthur^' tells of Arthur's birth, acces- 
sion, marriage and the triumphant beginning of his work. 
It gives us an idea of the heroic power of Arthur and his 
knights at their best. 

*' Gareth and Lynette " also presents the court of Arthur 
at its height of greatness and nobility. It is an episode 
which gives an idea of the easy power of Arthur in the fresh 
days of his early reign. 

*^The Marriage of Geraint " and **Geraint and Enid," 
originally one poem, give another, episode born of the distrust 
which arose from the beginnings of evil life and the falling 
away from the first ideals. 

- ^' Balin and Balan " is the unhappy story of a brother who 
killed his brother. But the accident which led to the con- 
clusion arose from the sin of Guinevere. 

" Merlin and Vivien " is an almost independent story. 

"Lancelot and Elaine" tells of another unhappy result of 
the love of Lancelot and the Queen. 

'' The Holy Grail " shows how Arthur's knights had so far 
fallen from their earlier prowess that only one or two of them 
could achieve a holy quest. 

" Pelleas and Ettarre" is an episode of the later court of 
Arthur. 

*'The Last Tournament" shows the general disgrace and 
failure of the knights of the Round Table. 

" Guinevere " deals more directly with the fortunes of 
Arthur. His Queen has been praved unfaithful, and flees to 
a monastery at Almesbury. Here the King finds her on his 



INTRODUCTION. XI 

return from an expedition against Lancelot, who has fled to 
his own lands of Brittany. 

*'The Passing of Arthur" follows directly the action of 
^' Guinevere." In Arthur's absence Modred has raised a re- 
bellion against the King, his uncle, and Arthur goes to quell 
it. A great battle follows in which the King kills the chief 
traitor and is himself mortally wounded. 

The poems in this book, then, although each is practically 
complete in itself, have each their place in the general de- 
velopment of the idea. " Gareth and Lynette" gives a pic- 
ture, especially in 11. 178-685, of the court of Arthur in 
the earlier days; "Lancelot and Elaine" (cf. the note on 
1. 1169) of the court in later days; ** The Passing of Ar- 
thur " is a conclusion of the whole. 

In this story the characters of the legend-cycle are taken 
for granted. It will be convenient to note those which are 
most mentioned in the '' Idylls " of this book. 

Arthur is the King, the type of Goodness striving with 
Evil. Tristram says of him, that when he first saw him, 

** He seemed to me no man. 
But Michael trampling Satan." 

—''The Last Tournament," 11. 667, 6GS. 

Guinevere is the Queen, his wife, of whom the little maid 
at Almesbury says, 

" This is all woman's grief. 
That she is woman, whose disloyal life 
Hath wrought confusion in the Table Eouud." 

— " Guinevere," 11. 216-218. 

Lancelot of the Lake is the chief knight of Arthur's court. 
He is, as we see in the two idylls in this book, all-powerful 
with lance and sword. Not so powerful in striving with evil, 
for, as he says himself. 



Xll INTRODUCTION. 

'' 111 me lived a siu, 
So straugc, of such a kind, that all of pure, 
Noble, and knightly in me twined and clung 
Round that one sin/' 

—" The Holy Grail," 769. 

Of the rest of Arthur's knights three especially must be 
mentioned, the sons of King Lot and Bellicent, the half-sister 
of Arthur — Gawain, Modred and Gareth. The last will be 
sufficiently known from the first of our poems. The others 
stand in the "Idylls," Gawain as the type of false courtesy, 
as we may see from "Lancelot and Elaine," 11. 549-718, and 
Modred as the typical traitor, as in " The Passing of Arthur," 
11. 151-169. 

Besides these there are others sometimes mentioned: Tris- 
tram the hunter, strong but reckless, of whom one may read 
in " The Last Tournament"; Galahad and Percivale, the two 
pure in heart, the heroes of "The Holy Grail;" Geraint, 
Balin, Pellcas, of whom we may read in the idylls that bear 
their name; Kay, the steward, who appears in " Garetb and 
Lynettc; " and Bedivere, who was with the King at the very 
end. 

Also we must know of Merlin the enchanter, 

" w^hose vast wit 
And hundred winters are but as the hands 
Of loyal vassals toiling for their liege." 

— " The Coming of Arthur," 279-281. 

The Symbolism, of the Idylls. 

To the story of the "Idylls," as he turned it over in his mind, 
Tennyson gave in time a symbolic significance. In the earlier 
poems he had clearly no such idea: " Morte d'Arthur " is 
simply a rendering of the medieval legend ; the first four idylls 
represent contrasting types of characters, the true and the 
false wife and the true and the false maiden. 



INTRODUCTION. XIU 

But in the poems published in 1869 the evidently sym- 
bolic clement appears, and in the lines *' To the Queen" 
(1872) the idea is distinctly stated: Tennyson calls the 
"Idylls "an 

'* old imperfect tale, 
New-old, and sliadowiiig Sense at war with Soul, 
Ideal manhood closed iii real man 
Rather tlian that gray king whose name, a ghost 
Streams like a cloud, man-shaped, from mountain j^eak. 
And cleaves to cairn and cromlech still; or him 
Of Geoffrey's book, or him of Malleor's." 

That is to say, in the ''Idylls of the King" we have, not the 
attempt to present the legendary Arthur, or the Arthur of 
Geoffrey of Monmouth, or even of Sir Thomas Malory, but 
rather a new rendering of the old tale so as to represent the 
war of sense with soul. 

King Arthur, then, represents the Soul of man, which strives 
in this world to better everything and bring it nearer to God: 
He is aided by various powers for good — the Lady of the Lake 
("Gareth and Lynette," 11. 210-219), who represents Religion 
or the Church, who has given him the sword Excalibur (the 
Bible) which he uses at need, and at the end casts away, and 
the Three Queens (" Gareth and Lynette," 1. 225, but better 
"The Coming of Arthur," 11. 271-278 and "The Passing of 
Arthur," 11. 373-379). 

The King is aided by Merlin, as the Soul is aided by the 
Intellect. 

The King weds Guinevere as the Soul is wedded to the 
Body. But just as the Soul does not make the Body spir- 
itual, 80 Guinevere cannot remain upon the plane where the 
King lives. She sins and repents of her sin, but tlie King 
leaves her and passes away, whither no one knows. 

This symbolic representation, it should be said, is of inter- 
est to the reader of the whole poem, for it gives us an un- 
doubted understanding of one of the ideas of the poet when 



XIV INTRODUCTION. 

he was writing it, and so a necessary help in grasping the 
poem as a whole. On the other hand it is of the very slight- 
est importance in *^ Gareth and Lynette^' and of very little 
in "Lancelot and Elaine," which was written before Tenny- 
son thought of it. Nor is it very important in ''The Pass- 
ing of Arthur," except in the lines now standing at the 
beginning (1-169) and the end (441-469), for the rest of the 
23oem was written without any symbolic idea at all. The 
conception, therefore, so far as our poems are concerned, 
helps us to an understanding of some passages, but is liardly 
of great importance, for each poem has its own independent 
meaning. "Lancelot and Elaine "is a love-story pure and 
simple, but " Gareth and Lynette " has a little symbolism of 
its own. The knight who strives with the Morning Star, the 
Noonday Sun, the Evening Star and Night represents man 
in his struggle with temptations of early life, middle life, and 
later years, and his final victory over death. And this idea 
is wrought out with some care in the contests with the differ- 
ent knights. The gay apparel of the ]\Iorning Star typifies 
the charm of sin in youth. The blazing armor of the Noon- 
day Sun represents the power of mature passion. The hard- 
ened skins of the Evening Star are the habits of a life-time 
that can be dealt with only at the closest quarters. The ter- 
ror of Death finally turns out to be an empty masquerade of 
horror. All this we want to perceive, but we must remember 
that it is not of the first importance; that, indeed, the original 
story had nothing of it at all. 

The Poetic Form : Meter. 

Such is the subject, such the ideas which Tennyson pre- 
sents to us in this poem. He presents it, however, as a poet; 
namely, in poetic form. 

Poetry is distinguished from prose by a heightened feeling 
which finds expression in poetic style. Thus poetry has its 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

characteristic diction ' and its characteristic use of figures.^ 
It lias also meter. 

Prose is based upon the every-day language of life; it is 
often far more elaborate and far more striking than ordinary 
conversation, but it never leaves the simpler form of utterance 
which comes naturally to everyone. Poetry, on the other 
hand, is always distinguished from common speech by its 
form. English poetry has sometimes rhyme and rhythm, 
sometimes rhythm alone. The poetry of our ancestors the 
Anglo-Saxons, and of the Teutonic tribes of Germany, had 
alliteration.' The Greeks and Romans had an intricate sys- 
tem based upon the length and shortness of the syllables. 
The Hebrews had rhythm, and also a device called parallelism.* 

The original aim in all cases, in part, at least, was to find 
some device that would help the memory. All know how 
much easier it is to memorize poetry than prose. In days 
long before the invention of printing, and indeed before the 
invention of writing, poetry was preserved, not in books but 
in men's minds: it was passed from one to another simply by 
word of mouth, and carried in the memory. Even in our 
own day, among peoples who are not experienced in the art of 
writing, there are professional reciters who carry in their heads 

» For a study of poetic diction the student may consult the introduction to Scott's 
" Lady of the Lake," No. 9 in this series. 

2 See introduction to " Poems of Knightly Adventure," No. 26 in this series. 

« One of the latest alliterative poems in English is the "Vision of William concerning 
Piers the Plowman " (about 1377), which begins thus: 

" In a summer season when soft was the sun, 
I shope me in s/iroudes as I a sAep(herd) were, 
In h&hit as a Permit unAoly of works, 
Went wide in this world zi^onders to hear." 

* The commonest form of parallelism is when the same general idea is repeated in 
different words, as in the second Psalm : 

" Why do the heathen rage 
And the people imagine a vain thing ? 
The kings of the earth set themselves, 
And the rulers take counsel together. 
Against the Lord, 
And against his annointed, saying. 
Let us break their bands asunder. 
And cast away their cords from us." 



XVI INTRODUCTION. 

thousands and thousands of lines of poetry. Some sort of 
repetition is needed to make the remembering easier. 

There were other reasons for poetic form, and in our time, 
of course, poetic form has developed far beyond such simple 
necessity; yet repetition is still the basis of our poetic form — 
repetition of combinations of accent, which we call rhythm, 
and repetition of sound, which we call rhyme. These two 
devices have developed, far beyond any necessity of helping 
the memor}^ into means by which the poet is enabled to ex- 
press his thought and feeling far more fully than he could in 
prose. ^Ye shall speak only of rhythm, because English blank 
verse has no rhyme. 

The word '' rhythm " denotes a certain regularity of recur- 
rence, generally in sound, whether found in poetry or not. 
Thus the sound of a railroad train as it goes over the ends of 
the rails is rhythmical, the ticking of a clock is rhythmical; 
in a rougher way the breaking of the surf on the beach or the 
swelling of wind in the trees is rhythmical. When we speak 
of rhythm in poetry we mean a certain regularity of recur- 
rence of stress or accent in the words. In prose there is 
recurrence of accent, but it is not regular; hence the follow- 
ing extract is not prose, although it may look as though it 
w^as : ' 

" So all day long the noise of battle rolled among the moun- 
tains by the winter sea, until King Arthur's Table, man by 
man, had fallen in Lyonnesse about their lord. King Arthur." 

It is not necessary for poetry to be printed differently from 
prose. It is different from prose, and it is only printed differ- 
ently to make the difference more obvious. 

The simplest form of rhythm is an alternation of accented 
and unaccented syllables. That is the rhythm in the lines 
'quoted above, although of the accented syllables, some are 

' The preceding paragraphs are substantially reprinted from " Enoch Arden and Othc: 
Poems," bv Tennyson, No. 6 in this series. 



INTRODUCTION. XVll 

more accented than others : hy in the second line is not heavily 
accented; but it is more accented than the syllables before 
and after it, -ains and the, so that it seems more accented 
than not. 

Such is the general meter of the "Idylls of the King." 
One can read the poem fairly well by remembering that the 
syllables to be accented come generally tlie second, fourth, 
sixth, eighth and tenth in the line. In a general way this 
meter is called iambic; that is, like the classical iambic verses 
which had alternately a short syllable and a long one. As 
the lines have five of these alternations it is called iambic 
pentameter; that is, iambic meter of five syllables. 

But if the whole poem were made up of such lines the 
effect would be very monotonous. So the poet varies it, and 
as each variation is a little noticeable, he is very apt to use 
these variations to call attention to something in the line. 
Thus in the following lines from " Gareth and Lynette:" 

" He spake; and all at fiery speed the two 

Shock'd on the central bridge, and either spear 
Bent but not brake, and either knight at once, 
HurFd as a stone from out a catapult 
Beyond his horse's crupper and the bridge. 
Fell, as if dead; "—11. 938-943. 

Here the second, third, fourth and sixth lines begin with an 
accented syllable instead of the usual unaccented syllable, and 
as a result of the slight difference from the ordinary, the 
accented syllables become emphatic, which is quite appropriate 
^ the sense. Such lines occur often ; not, as a rule, so 
many together, although there are several in '' Lancelot and 
Elaine," 11. 50-52. 

This change of accent is commonest in the beginning of the 
line, or in the first foot, as it is called. But it also occurs 
elsewhere, not infrequently, most often in the third foot, as 
in the following from " Gareth and Lynette": 



XVIU INTRODUCTION. 

*' Back from the gate started the three, to whom/' 1. 235. 

'* And o'er her breast floated the sacred fish," 1. 219. 

*' Our one white lie sits like a little ghost," 1. 291. 

*' Then into hall Gareth ascending heard," 1. 310. 

In these cases, too, the slight change from the usual rhythm, 
gives a slight emphasis to the word. 

This is the most usual variation of what would be monoto- 
nous iu a long poem. It is not so much of a variation as to 
destroy the rhythmical feeling of the passage, but it is enough 
to call slight attention to the words in which it occurs. An- 
other variation of a similar kind is the putting of two accented 
syllables together, as in the following lines in " Gareth and 
Lynette ": 

" Good' moth'er is bad mother unto me," 1. 16. 

*' Of those tair knights' that ranged about the throne," 1. 321. 

'' In token of true' heart' and fealty," 1. 391. 

** Some blazoned and some carven and some' blank,' " 1. 398. 

Another variation still is the use of an extra unaccented 
syllable in one place or another as in the following: 

'^ Arise and flickering in a grimly light 
Dance on the mere," 806, 807. 

Here the regular rhythm might be preserved by pronouncing 
flickering, but such does not seem to be Tennyson's idea, for 
he usually marks an elision with an apostrophe when he 
means it. The same thing may be said in 1. 891, where there 
are two extra syllables. In both cases the extra syllables are 
to be pronounced, and in both cases it will be seen that the 
effect harmonizes with the idea of the line. So 



INTRODUCTION. XIX 

" Wept from her sides as water flowing away," 1. 213. 

*' The hoof of his liorse slipped in the stream," 1. 1020. 

" The tale of Gareth, petulantly she said," 1. 1241. 

Sncli are llic chief principles which govern the meter known 
as English blank verse. There are many other things whereby 
the poet gives more flexibility and beauty to his verse, but 
tliese are the most important. If one pay attention to these, 
almost any verse can be read so as to bring out its metrical 
character. And this is a very important thing, for without 
it one cannot read poetry aloud at all, nor read it to one's 
self with any appreciation of the poet's form. 

The Poetic Form : Diction. 

Besides its meter, poetry differs generally from prose in its 
diction. This is not always the case, for some poets prefer 
to use the common language of every-day life, though even 
here there will generally be more figurative, more concrete 
words than in ordinary prose. In a poem like the *' Idylls," 
which tells of older times and manners, there will always be 
a corresponding difference in the language. Thus Tennyson 
has a good many words now hardly used, as soilure, 1. 7;^ 
jousty 1. 61; boon, 1. 71; lay, 1. 112; devoir, 1. 118; wroth, 
1. 159; lustihood, 1. 202; rathe, 1. 338; anon, 1. 451; albeit, 
1. 591. This gives an archaic character which in these poems 
is entirely in keeping with the legendary subject. He has 
also examples, but fewer, of words still common used in an 
obsolete sense, as wity 1. 10; lets, I. 94; so, 1. 222; still, 
1. 321; grace, 1. 380. Such words, however, are in a modern 
poet not so common as the really archaic words. We may 
notice also old inflections, like clave, 1. 37; brake, 1. 50; ye, 
1. 83; mine, 1. 93; spake, 1. 124; safelier, 1. 217; bare, 

1 All the examples of diction are taken from Lancelot and Elaine. 



XX INTRODUCTION. 

1. 244; hoJpen, 1. 494; drave, 1. 496; liath, 1. 1065. But it 
will be uoted that these expressions are not very common; nor 
are they invariable, for often when Tennyson might have used 
an archaic inflection he does not do so. He does use, how- 
ever, not a few old locutions, as let proclaim, 1. 76; else had 
he not, 1. 146; I dread me, 1. 511; meseemed, 1. 671; fvll ill, 
1. 939, and on the whole we may say that there is a strong 
archaic coloring to the language of the '' Idylls." 

We may also remark, and especially in ''The Passing of 
Arthur," the use of set phrases and epithets. This is in ac- 
cord with the usage of the older poets of knightly times. 
Thus we have Bedivere, generally called " The bold Sir Bedi- 
vere" ("The Passing of Arthur," 11. 1, 50, 147, 175, etc.); 
*'The latest left of all his knights," ibid., 11. 2, 292; "the 
dim, rich city" of Camelot, "Lancelot and Elaine," 797, 
840; " the long backs of the bushless downs," ibid., 11. 398, 
784. Sometimes we have repetitions, as of the lines 

" Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful," 

— " The Passing of Arthur," 11. 199. 312, 327. 



" So the next day broke from underground." 

— " Lancelot and Elaine," 11. 411, 1130. 

" Down the slope street and past without the gate." 

— " Gareth and Lynette," 11. 685, 715. 

This serves to add to the archaic tone, for such epithets and 
repetitions belong to a time before printing, when poems were 
recited by poets and minstrels, who had to hold everything in 
their heads. 

But the archaic coloring is not the only characteristic of 
Tennyson's diction that we may readily note. One charac- 
teristic of any poet is that his mind is usually full of concrete 
images. This quality gives us not only the longer figures 
commonly thought of as figures of speech, but it gives an 
especial character to his language. Thus in "Lancelot and 



INTRODUCTION. XXI 

Elaine/' II. 47-53, xVrtliiir labors up tlie pass and plunges 
(lo'.vn the scaur; in 11. 111-116 the bard links the names of 
(i.iiiiGvere i\\Q j^earl of bsauty and Lancelot i\\Q flower of 
Ur.ivcry; in 1. 1G5, the track runs in loops and links ; sncli 
.i\pres-ions give us in condensed form, as we may say, picUues 
a .J figures. It is part of the intensity of poetic dicLion to 
present such ideas in single words, but the poet does noc !-y 
any means confine himself to single words in his figured ( x- 
pression. Tennyson is a writer of constant imagery, but Le 
sometimes uses a figure as well. These figures are often 
drawn from nature and are often singularly apt, and beauti- 
ful in themselves. For instance, 

" As a wild wave in the wild North-sea, 
Green-glimmering toward the summit, bears with all 
Its stormy crests that smoke against the skies, 
Down on a bark," 11. 480-483. 

*' The peopled gallery which half round 
Lay like a rainbow fallen upon the grass," 11. 428, 429. 

" Then as a little helpless innocent bird. 
That has but one plain passage of few notes. 
Will sing the simple passage o'er and o'er 
For all an April morning, till the ear 
Wearies to hear it, so the simple maid," 11. 889-893. 

More frequent than these longer figures are those a bit shorter 
of one kind or another, like " The low sun makes the color," 
1. 134; *'I lose it as we lose the lark in heaven," 1. G55; 
"Fire in dry stubble a nine days' wonder flared," 1. 730. 
Such figures one might study more, but even noted in a super- 
ficial way they give us a conception of the figured, concrete, 
pictorial character of Tennyson's diction in our poems. 

Important Dates in Tennyson^ s Life. 

1809. August 6. Born at Somersby, Lincolnshire. 
1827. "Poems by Two Brothers," by Alfred Tennyson and 
his brother Charles. 



XXU INTKODUCTION. 

1828. Goes to Trinity College, Cambridge. 

1829. Wins the Chancellor's Medal for a poem entitled 

^'Timbnctoo.'^ 

1830. '' Poems, Chiefly Lyrical." 

1832. '' Poems " (" The Lady of Shalott " and other poems). 

1842. "Poems" (a revision of earlier poems and '^Englisli 
Idylls" including '^Morte d'Arthur.") 

1847. "The Princess." 

1850. " In Memoriam." In this year also Tennyson was 
married, and on the death of Wordsworth was made 
Poet Laureate. 

1855. " Maud " and other poems. 

1859. "The Idylls of the King." There were first pub- 
lished four Idylls only; eight others were added at 
various times. 

1875. "Queen Mary." In later life Tennyson wrote a 
number of dramas of which the most important 
beside this are "Harold," 1876, and "Becket," 
1884. 

1884. Created Baron of Aldworth and Faringford. 

1892. "The Death of (Enone," " Akbar's Dream" and 
other poems. This was the last volume published 
by the poet; we have not noted above all those of 
his later years. 

1892. October 7th. Died. He was buried in Westminster 
Abbey. 



GARETH AND LYKETTE 

AND OTHER IDYLLS 



GAKETH AND LYNETTE 

The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent, 
And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful spring 
Stared at tiie spate.' A slender-shafted Pine 
Lost footing, fell, and so was whirl'd away. 
5 " How he went down," said Gareth, "as a false knight 
Or evil king before my lance if lance 
Were mine to use — senseless cataract, 
Bearing all down in thy precipitancy — 
And yet thou art but swollen with cold snows 

10 And mine is living'^ blood: thou dost His will. 
The Maker's, and not knowest, and I that know. 
Have strength and wit, in my good mother's hali 
Linger with vacillating obedience, 
Prison'd, and kept and coax'd and whistled to — 

15 Since the good mother holds me still a child! 
Good mother is bad mother unto me! 
A worse were better; yet no worse would I. 
Heaven yield her for it, but in me put force 
To weary her ears with one continuous prayer, 

20 Until she let me fly discaged to sweep 
In ever-highering eagle-circles up 
To the great Sun of Glory, and thence swoop 

> Scotch for spHng ton^ent, freshet. 

» and therefore should run with more life than mere water. 



2 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

Down upon all things base, and dasli them dead, 

A kuight of Arthur/ working out his will, 
25 To cleanse the world. Why, Gawain,'' when he came 

With Mod red hither in the suniniei- lime, 

Ask'd me to tilt with him, the proven kuight. 

Modred for want of wortljier was the j ridge. 

Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said, 
30 ' Thon hast half prevail'd against me,' said so — he — 

Tho' Modred biting his thin lips Avas mute. 

For he is alway sullen: what care I ? " 

And Gareth went, and hovering ronnd her chair, 
Ask'd, " Mother, tho' ye count me still tlie child, 

35 Sweet mother, do ye love the child ? " She laugh'd, 
" Thou art but a wild goose to question it." 
" Then, mother, an' ye love the child," he said, 
" Being a goose and rather tame than wild, 
Hear the child's story." " Yea, my well-beloved, 

40 An 'twere but of the goose and golutui eggs." 

And Gareth answer'd her with kir.dling eyes, 
'' Nay, nay, good mother, but this egg of mine 
Was finer gold than any goose can lay; 
For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, laid 

45 Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a palm 
As glitters gilded in thy Book of Hours.'' 
And there was ever haunting round the palm 
A lusty youth, but poor, who often saw 
The s[)lendor sparkling from aloft, aiul thought 

50 ' An I could climb and lay my hand upon it. 
Then were I wealthier than a leash '' of kings.' 

1 See p. ix. . ■* a book with devotions for different 

' Gawiiin and Modred were brothers of times of the day. 

Gareth and nep'ie.vs of King Arthur. The ^ A 1- asli is a thong to ho] 1 dogs. Careth 

first appears in the old romances as the tj'pe nses the word here to sliow his conte-^^pt 

of kaigl-tly co'irtesy, tlie other as the tyi)e for kings merely as men of wealth. True 

of the ti eacherous, villainous knight kings who live to rule righteously he reveres 

» if. and admires. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 3 

But ever when he reach 'd a hand to climb, 
One, that had loved him from his childhood, caught 
And stay'd him, ' Climb not lest thou break thy neck, 
55 I charge thee by my love,' and so the boy, 

Sweet mother, neither clomb,' nor brake his neck. 
But brake his very heart in pining for it. 
And past away." 

To whom the mother said, 
" True love, sweet son, had risk'd himself and climb'd, 
60 And handed down the golden treasure to him." 

And Gareth answer 'd her with kindling eyes, 
" Gold ? said I gold ? — ay tlien, why he, or she. 
Or whosoe'er it was, or half the world 
Had ventured — had the thing I spake of been 

65 Mere gold — but this was all of that true steel. 
Whereof they forged the brand ^ Excalibur,^ 
And lightnijigs play'd about it in the storm. 
And all the little fowl were flurried at it. 
And there were cries and clash ings in the nest, 

70 That sent him from his senses: let me go." * 

Then Bellicent bemoan'd herself and said, 
*' Hast thou no pity upon my loneliness? 
Lo, where thy father Lot beside the hearth 
Lies like a log, and all but smoulder'd out! 
75 For ever since wJien traitor to the King ^ 
lie fought against him in the Barons' war, 
And Arthur gave him back his territory, 
ILs age hath slowly droopt, and now lies there 

' archaic past tense of cli?nb. * Notice the eflfect of the three simple 

' sword. words coming at the end of the impassioned 

3 the famous sword of Arthur, given him exclamation. 

by the Lady of the Lake as told in T/te ^ There had been those who did not allow 

Coming of Arthur, 394-308, and in Malory, Arthur's title and therefore banded togothcj 

bk. I., ch. XXV. against him. See 1. 130. 



4 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

A yet- warm corpse, and yet unburiable, 

80 No more; nor sees, nor bears, nor speaks, nor knows. 
And both thy brethren are in Arthur's hall. 
Albeit ' neither loved with that full love 
I feel for thee, nor worthy such a love: 
Stay therefore thou; red berries charm the bird, 

85 And thee, mine innocent, the jousts,^ the wars, 
AYho never knewest fiiiger-ache, nor pang 
Of wrench'd or broken limb — an often chance 
In those brain-stunning shocks, and tourney-falls. 
Frights to my heart; but stay: follow the deer 

90 By these tall firs and our fast-falling burns; " 
So make thy manhood mightier day by day; 
Ssveet is the chase: and I will seek thee out 
Some comfortable * bride and fair, to grace 
Thy climbing life, and cherish my prone year, 

95 Till falling into Lot's forgetfulness 
I know not thee, myself, nor anything. 
Stay, my best son! ye are yet more boy than man." 

Then Gareth, '' An 3^e hold me yet for child. 
Hear yet once more the story of the child. 

100 For, mother, there Avas once a King, like ours; ' 
The prince his heir, when tall and marriageable, 
Ask'd for a bride; and thereupon the King 
Set two before him. One was fair, strong, arm'd — . 
But to be won by foi'ce — and many men 

105 Desired her; one, good lack,^ no man desired. 
And these were the conditions of the King: 
That save ' he won the first by force, he needs 
Must wed that other, whom no man desired, 
A red-faced bride who knew herself so vile, 

1 although. * Gareth thinks of Arthur offering him 

2 friendly tournaments. such a choice. 

3 Scotch for bfooks. " an old colloquial exclamation. 
* cheerful and agreeable. '' except, unless. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

110 That evermore she long'd to hide liei'self, 
Nor fronted man or woman eye to eye — 
Yea — some she cleaved to, but they died of her. 
And one — they call'd her Fame; and one, Mother, 
How can ye keep me tether'd to yon — Shame! 

115 Man am I grown, a man's work must I do. 
Follow the deer? follow the Clirist, the King,' 
Live pnre, speak true, right wrong, follow the King — 
Else, wherefore born ? " 

To whom the mother said, 
" Sweet son, for there be many who deem him not, 

120 Or Avill not deem him, wholly 23roven King — 
Albeit in mine own heart I knew him King/ 
When I was frequent with him in my yonth, 
And heard him Kingly speak, and donbted him 
No more than he, himself; but felt him mine, 

125 Of closest kin to me; yet — wilt thou leave 
Thine easeful bidding here, and risk thine all. 
Life, limbs, for one that is not proven King? 
Stay, till the cloud that settles round his birth 
Hath lifted but a little. Stay, sweet son." 

130 And Gareth answer'd quickly, " Not an hour. 
So ^ that ye yield me — I will walk thro' fire, 
Mother, to gain it — your full leave to go. 
Not proven, who swept the dust of ruin'd Home 
From off the threshold of the realm, and crush 'd 

135 The Idolaters, and made the people free ? 

Who should be Kino^ save him who makes us free? " * 



3 Arthur was preemincitly a Christian 3 jf; cf. 1. 37. 

king. Hence his knighthood sang "The * Arthur had led the British against the 

KingBhall follow Christ, and we tlie King." Romans and against the heathen Saxons. 

» Bellicent knew him for her brother, the See The Coming of Arthur, 11. 475 to the 

son of Uther, the former 'cing. end- 



b GARETH AND LY:N^ETTE. 

So when the Queen, who long had sought in vain 
To break him from tlie intent to which he grew. 
Found her son's will unwaveringly one, 

140 She answer'd craftily, " Will ye walk thro' fire?* 
Who walks thro' fire will hardly heed the smoke. 
Ay, go then, an ye must: only one proof, 
Before thou ask the King to make thee knight. 
Of thine obedience and thy love to me, 

145 Thy mother, — I demand." 

And Gareth cried, 
^' A hard one, or a hundred, so I go. 
Xay — quick! the proof to prove me to the quick! "* 

But slowly spake the mother, looking at him, 
" Prince,^ thou shalt go disguised to Arthur's hall, 
150 And hire thyself to serve for meats and drinks 
Among the scullions and the kitchen-knaves. 
And those that hand the dish across the bar. 
Nor shalt thou tell thy name to any one. 
And thou shalt serve a twelvemonth and a day."* 

155 For so the Queen believed that when her son 
Beheld his only way to glory lead 
Low down thro' villain* kitchen-vassalage,^ 
Her own true Gareth was too princely-proud 
To pass thereby: so should he rest with her, 

160 Closed in her castle from the sound of arms. 

Silent awhile was Gareth, then replied, 
'' The thrall in person may be free in soul, 

1 Bellicent quickly takes up his offer. ^ being grandson of old King Uther. 

2 Quick originally meant living, as in the * " A twelvemonth and a day " is a fa- 
expression " the quick and the dead.'* We vorite expression in the old romances. It 
speak now of "the quick of the finger- comes originally from the law. 

nails." "To the quick" means "to the * Villain formerly meant no nrore than 
most sensitive part." low., vulgar. • service in the kitchen. 



GARETH AND l.YNETTE. 7 

And I shall see the jousts. Thy son am I, 
And since thou art my mother, must obey. 
165 I therefore yield me freely to thy will; 

For hence will 1/ disguised, and hire myself 
To serve with scullions and with kitchen-knaves; 
Nor tell my name to any — no, not the King." 

Gareth awhile linger'd. The mother's eye 

170 Full of the wistful fear that he would go. 

And turning toward him wheresoe'er he turn'd, 
Perplext his outward purpose, till an hour, 
When waken'd by the wind which with full voice 
Swept bellowing thro' the darkness on to dawn, 

175 He rose, and out of slumber calling two 

That still ' had tended on him from his birth, 
Before the wakeful mother heard him, went. 

The three were clad like tillers of the soil. 
SoutliAvard they set their faces. The birds made 
180 Melody on branch, and melody in mid-air." 

The damp hill-slopes were quicken'd " into green. 
And the live green had kindled into flowers. 
For it was j)ast the time of Easterday. 

So, when their feet were j)lanted on the plain 
185 That broaden 'd toward the base of Oamelot,^ 
Far off they saw the silver-misty morn 
Rolling her smoke about the Royal mount, 
That rose between the forest and the field. 
At times the summit of the high city flash'd; 
190 At times the spires and turrets half-way down 

Prick'd thro' the mist; at times the great gate shone 

» Hence will I go. * brought to life. See 1. 147 and note. 

3 continually. * Camelot was one of the chief cities of 

' Notice the rhythm of the line and the Arthur, and a favorite place for holding his 

alliteration ; it harmonizes with the subject, court. 



8 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

Only, that open'd on the field below: 
Anon/ the whole fair city had disappeared. 

Then those who went with Gareth were amazed, 

195 One crying, "Let us go no farther, lord. 
Here is a city of Enchanters, built 
By fairy Kings." The second echo'd him, 
" Lord, we have heard from our wise men at home 
To Northward, that this King is not the King, 

<.00 But only changeling^ out of Fairyland, 
Who drave the heathen hence by sorcery 
And Merlin's glamour." ^ Then the first again, 
" Lord, there is no such city anywhere. 
But all a vision." 

Gareth answer'd them 
205 With laughter, swearing he had glamour enow * 

In his own blood, his princedom, youth and hopes. 

To plunge old Merlin in the Arabian sea; 

So push'd them all unwilling towards the gate. 

And there was no gate like it nnder heaven; 
210 For barefoot on the keystone, which was lined 

And rippled like an ever-fleeting wave, 

The Lady of the Lake ^ stood: all her dress 

Wept from her sides as water flowing away; 

But like the cross her great and goodly arms 
215 Stretch'd under all the cornice and upheld: 

And drops of water fell from either hand; 

And down from one a sword was hung, from one 

' soon, in a little while. Lake stands for the Christian Chnrch : her 

2 The old superstition was that the fairies dress like water, is the sacrament of bap- 
Bometimes stole away children, leaving in tism ; the sword and the censer typify tue 
their place "changelings," as they were militant and reverent characteristics; the 
called,being8of a strange, unearthly nature, fish was a sacred emblem among the 

3 the old word for magic. early Christians, for the word for fish in 
< enough. Greek is made up of the initials of the Greek 
6 The sculpture on the gate is symbolic, as words for "Jesus Christ, Son of God, the 

is much else in the i(i«/;^. TheLadyofthe Saviour." 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

A censer, either worn with wind and storm; 

And o'er lier breast floated the sacred fish ; 
220 And in the space to left of lier, and right, 

AVere Arthur's wars in weird devices done, 

New things and old co-twisted,' as if Time 

Were nothing, so inveterately/ that men 

Were giddy gazing there; and over all 
225 High on the top were those three Qneens,^ the friends 

Of Arthur, who should help him at his need. 

Then those with Garetli for so long a space 
Stared at the figures, that at last it seem'd 
The dragon-boughts * and elvish emblemings 
230 Began to move, seethe, twine and curl: they^ call'd 
To Gareth, " Lord, the gateway is alive." 

And Gareth likewise on them fixt his eyes 
So long, that ev'n to him they seem'd to move. 
Out of the city a blast of music peal'd. 
235 Back from the gate started the three, to whom 
From out thereunder came an ancient man. 
Long-bearded, saying, *' A\^ho be ye, my sons? " 

Then Gareth, " We be " tillers of the soil. 
Who leaving share ^ in furrow come to see 

240 The glories of our King: but these, my men 
(Your city moved so w^eirdly in the mist), 
Doubt if the King be King at all, or come 
From Fairyland ; and whether this be built 
By magic, a.nd by fairy Kings and Queens; 

245 Or whether there be any city at all, 

» twisted together. * the folds (bonghts) of tlie dragon b . 

* inextricably. * his two companions, 

s See The Coming of Arthur, 11. 271-278, « an archaic use: see p. xix. 

and The Passing of Arthur, 11. 361-393. "< ploughshare. 



10 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

Or all a yision; and this music now 

Hath scared them both, but tell tliou these the truth." 

Then that old Seer made answer playing on him * 
And saying, " Son, I have seen the good ship sail 

250 Keel upward and mast downward in the heavens. 
And solid turrets topsy-turvy in air; 
And here is truth; but an it please thee not, 
Take thou the truth as ^ thou hast told it me. 
For truly, as thou sayest, a Fairy King 

255 And Fairy Queens have built the city, son; 
They came from out a sacred mountain-cleft 
Toward the sunrise, each with harp in hand. 
And built it to the music of their harps/ 
And as thou sayest, it is enchanted, son, 

260 For there is nothing in it as it seems 

Saving the King; " tho' some there be that hold 
The King a shadow, and the city real : ^ 
Yet take thou heed of him, for, so ^ thou pass 
Beneath this archway, then wilt thou become 

265 A thrall to his enchantments, for the King 
Will bind thee by such vows, as is a shame 
A man should not be bound by, yet the w^hich 
No man can keep; ^ but, so thou dread to swear. 
Pass not beneath this gateway, but abide 

270 Without, among the cattle of the field. 
For, an ye heard a music, like enow 
They are building still, seeing the city is built 

» trying him, and making game of him. ^ gome tlioiight the king's ways were 

2 in the same manner ; that is, untruly, foolishness and the way of the world about 
So in 1. 283 Merlin mocks Gareth as Gareth him the true way. 

had mocked him. « if ; as in 1. 131 and elsewhere. 

3 In Greek legend the walls of Thebes ' He means that the ideals of the king are 
arose to the music of Amphion. so noble that nobody could refuse them, yet 

■* The king alone was what he appeared so hard to attain them that everybody must 

to be. The others all concealed, under their make some failure. Yet Gareth, like all 

noble exterior, some touch of evil, though finer souls (not " cattle of the field," 1. 270) 

never so slight. makes the attempt. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 11 

To music, therefore never built at all. 
And therefore built forever." ^ 

Gareth spake 
275 Anger' d, ^' Old Master, reverence thine own beard 
That looks as white as utter ^ truth, and seems 
Well nigh as long as thou art statured tall ! 
Why mockest thou the stranger that hath been 
To thee fair-spoken ? " 

But the Seer replied, 
280 '' Know ye not then the Riddling of the Bards?" 

' Confusion, and illusion, and relation. 

Elusion, and occasion, and evasion ? ' 

I mock thee not but as thou mockest me,* 

And all that see thee, for thou art not who 
285 Thou seemest, but I know thee who thou art/ 

And now thou goest up to mock the King, 

Who cannot brook the shadow of any lie. 



5) 



Unmockingly the mocker ending here 
Turn'd to the right, and past along the plain; 
290 Whom Gareth looking after, said, ''My men. 
Our one white lie ^ sits like a little ghost 
Here on the threshold of our enterprise. 
Let love be blamed for it, not she, nor I : 
AVell, we will make amends." 

With all good cheer 
295 He spake and laugh'd, then enter'd with his twain 
Camelot, a city of shadowy palaces. 
And stately, rich in emblem and the work 

* Because Arthur's rule is founded upon ' the ancient Welsh poets : a part of 
noble ideals it is not easy to think of it as their poetry consisted of riddles in verse, 
havinis: been made, and yet for this same * See 1. 253. * See Luke iv. 34. 
reason it cannot pass away. * The " one white lie" was pretending to 

* absolute. be what he was not. 



12 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

Of cncient Kings who did tlieir days in stone; * 

AVhich Merlin's hand, the Mage at Arthnr's conrt, 
300 Knowing all the arts, had touch'd and everywhere 

At Arthnr's ordinance, tipt with lessening peak 

And pinnacle, and had made it spire to heaven. 

And ever and anon a knight wonld pass 

Outward, or inward to the hall : his arms 
305 Clash'd; and the sound was good to Gareth's ear. 

And out of bower and casement shyly glanced 

Eyes of pure women, wholesome stars of love; 

And all about a healthful people stept 

As in the presence of a gracious king.^ 

310 Then into hall Gareth ascending heard 

A voice, the voice of Arthur, and beheld 

Far over heads in that long-vaulted hall 

The splendor of the presence of the King 

Throned, and delivering doom ^ — and look'd no more — 
315 But felt his young heart hammering in his ears. 

And thought, *' For this half-shadow of a lie 

The truthful King will doom me when I speak." 

Yet pressing on, tho' all in fear to find 

Sir Gawain or Sir Modred,* saw nor one 
320 Nor other, but in all the listening eyes 

Of those tall knights, that ranged about the throne. 

Clear honor shining like the dewy star 

Of dawn, and faith in their great King, with pure 

Affection, and the light of victory, 
325 And glory gain'd, and evermore to gain. 

Then came a widow crj^ing to the King, 
" A boon,' Sir King! Thy father, Uther, reft 

1 who had the deeds of their time carved 3 judgment, 

in stone. * his brothers. See note on 11. 25, 26, and 

" The place was in keeping with Gareth's also 11. 408, 409. 

enthusiastic ideals. * favor. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 13 

From my dead lord a field with violence : 
For howsoe'er at first he proffer'd gold, 
330 Yet, for the field was pleasant in onr eyes. 
We yielded not; and then he reft us of it 
Perforce, and left us neither gold nor field." 

Said Arthur, " Whether ' would ye ? gold or field ? " 
To whom the woman weeping, " Nay, my lord, 
335 The field was pleasant in my husband's eye." 

And Arthur, '^ Have thy pleasant field again. 
And thrice the gold for Uther's use thereof. 
According to the years. No boon is here. 
But justice, so thy say be proven true. 
340 Accursed, who from wrongs his father did 
Would shape himself a right! " 

And while she past. 
Came yet another widow crying to him, 
*' A boon. Sir King! Thine enemy. King, am I. 
With thine own hand thou slewest my dear lord, 

345 A knight of Uther in the Barons' war,* 

AVhen Lot and many another rose and fought 
Against thee, saying thou wert basely born. 
I held with these, and loathe to ask thee aught. 
Yet lo! my husband's brother had my son 

350 Thrall'd in his castle, and hath starved him dead; 
And standeth seized^ of that inheritance 
AVhich thou that slewest the sire hast left the son. 
So tho' I scarce can ask it thee for hate, 
Grant me some knight to do the battle for me, 

355 Kill the foul thief, and wreak* me for my son." 

' which of the two. were acknowledfied. See lines 75, 76. 

2 the Barons' war against Arthur be- '3 a le(;al term for j)Osse)<f!ed of. 
fore his supremacy and title to the throne * revenge. 



14 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

Then strode a good kuight forward, crying to him, 
** A boon. Sir King! I am her kinsman, I. 
Give me to right her wrong, and slay the man." 

Then came Sir Kay, the seneschal,' and cried, 
360 '^ A boon. Sir King! ev'n that thou grant her none. 
This railer, that hath mock'd thee in full hall — 
None; or the wholesome boon of gyve and gag." 

But Arthnr, " We sit King, to heljD the wrong' d 
Thro' all our realm. The woman loves her lord. 

365 Peace to thee, Avoman, with thy loves and hates! 
The kings of old had doom'd thee to the flames, 
Aurelius Emrys ^ would have scourged thee dead. 
And Uther slit thy tongue; but get thee hence — 
Lest that roagh humor of the kings of old 

370 Keturn upon me! Thou that art her kin. 
Go likewise; lay him low and slay him not. 
But bring him here, that I may judge the right. 
According to the j astice of the King : 
Then, be he guilty, by that deathless King 

375 Who lived and died for men, the man shall die.' 

Then came in hall the messenger of Mark,^ 
A name of evil savor in the land. 
The Cornish king. In either hand he bore 
What dazzled all, and shone far-off as shines 
380 A field of charlock * in the sudden sun 

Between two showers, a cloth of palest gold. 
Which down he laid before the throne, and knelt. 
Delivering,^ that his Lord, the vassal king, 

1 Sir Kay is one of the familiar figures 3 Mark, king of Cornwall, a " vassal king " 

among Arthur's knights in the old ro- or dependent lord of Arthur, is the type of 

mances. He was the seneschal or steward, cowardly meanness elsewhere in the poems 

the keeper of the king's castle. . of the Idylls of the King, as Modred is the 

' Aurelius Emrys and Uther were broth- type of envious cunning, 

era. The latter was king before Arthur, the * the yellow wild mustard plant, 

former before Uther. * giving the message. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 15 

Was ev'n upon his way to Camel ot; 
385 For having heard tliat Arthur of his grace 

Had made his goodly cousin, Tristram, knight,' 

And, for himself was of the greater state. 

Being a king, he trusted his liege-lord 

AVould yield him this large honor all the more; 
390 So pray'd him well to accept this cloth of gold. 

In token of true heart and fealty.'^ 

Then Arthur cried to rend the cloth, to rend 
In pieces and so cast it on the hearth. 
An oak-tree ' smouldered there. '^ The goodly knight! * 

395 What! shall the shield of Mark stand among these? " 
For midway down the side of that long hall 
A stately pile, — whereof along the front 
Some blazon'd,^ some but carven, and some blank. 
There ran a treble range of stony shields, — 

400 Rose and high-arching overbrow'd the hearth. 
And under every shield a knight was named; 
For this was Arthur's custom in his hall; 
When some good knight had done one noble deed. 
His arms were carven only ; but if twain 

405 His arms were blazon'd also; but if none 

The shield was blank and bare without a sign 
Saving the name beneath ; and Gareth saw 
The shield of Gawain blazon'd rich and bright. 
And Modred's blank as death; and Arthur cried 

410 To rend the cloth and cast it on the hearth/ 

" More like are we to reave ' him of his crown 
Than make him knight because men call him king. 

1 The king had power to raise whom he ^ This is the word in the science of ner- 

would to the order of knighthood. aldry for portraying in the right colors. 

' faithful service. « These words take up the story after the 

» The hearth was so large that the trunk description, 

of a great tree could be put in it. '' To reave is to take away. The con- 

* Arthur speaks in scorn, as though he had struction is the same as after " deprive." 
said, " A line knight he would be." 



16 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

The kings we found, ye know we stay'd their hands 
From war among themselves, but left them kings; 

415 Of whom were any bounteous, merciful. 

Truth-speaking, brave, good livers, them we enroll 'd 
Among us, and they sit within our hall. 
But Mark hath tarnish'd the great name of king. 
As Mark would sully the low state of churl : 

420 And seeing he hath sent us cloth of gold, v 

Return, and meet, and hold him from our eyes. 
Lest we should lap him up in cloth of lead,^ 
Silenced forever — craven — a man of ])lots, 
Craft, poisonous counsels, wayside ambushings — 

425 No fault of thine : let Kay, the seneschal. 
Look to thy wants, and send thee satisfied — 
Accursed, who strikes nor lets the hand be seen! " 

And many another suppliant crying came 
With noise of ravage wrought by beast and man, 
430 And evermore a knight would ride away. 

Last Gareth leaning both hands heavily 
Down on the shoulders of the twain, his men. 
Approach 'd between them toward the King, and ask'd, 
" A boon. Sir King (his voice was all ashamed), 
435 For see ye not how weak and hunger-worn 
I seem — leaning on these ? grant me to serve 
For meat and drink among the kitchen-knaves 
A twelvemonth and a day, nor seek my name. 
Hereafter I will fight. '"* 

To him the King, 
440 " A goodly youth and worth a goodlier boon! 
But an thou wilt no goodlier, then must Kay, 
The master of the meats and drinks be thine." ' 

1 Lead was uged for coffins ; lap is the ^ rather a condensed constrnction. Kay 
same word as rvrap. is to be master of Gareth as well as of the 

2 He cannot help expressing his real hopes, meats and drinks. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 17 

He rose and past; then Kay, a man of mien 
Wan-sallow as the plant that feels itself 
445 Koot-bitten by white lichen, 

^' Lo ye now! 
This fellow hath broken from some Abbey, where, 
God wot, he had not beef and brewis enow, 
However that might chance! but an he work, 
Like any pigeon will I cram his crop, 
450 And sleeker shall he shine than any hog." 

Then Lancelot' standing near, " Sir Seneschal, 
Sleuth-hound thou knowest, and gray, and all the hounds; 
A horse thou knowest, a man thou dost not know 
Broad brows and fair, a fluent^ hair and fine, 
455 Higli nose, a nostril large and fine, and hands 

Large, fair and fine ! — Some young lad's mystery — 
But, or from sheepcot or king's hall, the boy 
Is noble-natured. Treat him with all grace. 
Lest he should come to shame thy judging of liim." 

460 Then Kay, " AVhat marmurest thou of mystery? 
Think 3'e this fellow will poison the King's dish ? 
Nay, for he spake too fool-like: mystery! 
Tut, an the lad were noble, he had ask'd 
For horse and ai'mor: fair and fine, forsooth! 

465 "Sir Fine-face, Sir Fair-hands ? but see thou to it 
That thine own fineness, Lancelot, some fine day 
Undo thee not — and leave my man to me." 



So Gareth all for glory underwent 
The sooty yoke of kitchen-vassalage 



» Lancelot is the chief of Arthur's « flowing. Wesay " aflnentspeech," but 

knights, the most courteous, the bravest, do not often use the word for material 

and the greatest in everything that be- thing;^. 

longed to knighthood. 9 See 1. 157, 



18 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

470 Ate with young lads his portion by the door. 

And couch'd at night with grimy kitchen-knaves. 
And Lancelot ever spake him pleasantly. 
But Kay the seneschal who loved him not 
Would hustle and harry him, and labor him 

475 Beyond his comrade of the hearth, and set 

To turn the broach,' draw water, or hew wood. 
Or grosser tasks; and Gareth bow'd himself 
With all obedience to the King, and wrought 
All kind of service with a noble ease 

480 That graced the lowliest act in doing it. ~ 

And when the thralls had talk among themselves 
And one would praise the love that linkt the King 
And Lancelot — how the King had saved his life 
In battle twice, and Lancelot oDce the King's — 

485 For Lancelot was the first in Tournament, 
But Arthur mightiest on the battlefield — 
Gareth was glad. Or if some other told, 
How once the wandering forester at dawn. 
Far over the blue tarns and hazy seas, 

490 On Caer-Eryri's'^ highest found the King 
A naked babe, of whom the Prophet spake, 
*' He passes to the Isle Avilion,^ 
He passes and is heal'd and cannot die " — 
Gareth was glad. But if their talk were foul, 

495 Then would he whistle rapid as any lark. 
Or carol some old roundelay, and so loud 
That first they mock'd, but, after, reverenced him. 
Or Gareth telling some prodigious tale 
Of knights, who sliced a red life-bubbling * way 

500 Thro' twenty folds of twisted dragon, held 
All in a gap-mouth'd circle his good mates 
Lying or sitting round him, idle hands, 

1 the great spit. ^ a mythical island, a sort of paradise on 

5 apparently Mt. Snowdon. earth. * because the life-blood gushed out. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 19 

Charm 'd; till Sir Kay, the seneschal, would come 

Blustering upon them, like a sudden wind 
505 Among dead leaves, aud drive them all apart. 

Or when the thralls had sport among themselves. 

So there were any trial of mastery. 

He, by two yards in casting bar or stone 

AVas counted best; and if there chanced a joust, 
510 So that Sir Kay nodded him leave to go. 

Would hurry thither, and when he saw the knights 

0+ash like the coming and retiring wave. 

And the spear spring, and good horse reel, the boy 

Was half be3^ond. himself for ecstasy. 

515 So for a month he wrought among the thralls; 
But in the weeks that follow'd, the good Queen, 
Eepentant of the word she made him swear. 
And saddening in her childless castle, sent, 
Between the increscent and decrescent moon,* 

520 Arms for her son, and loosed him from his vow. 

This, Gareth hearing from a squire of Lot 
With whom he used to play at tourney once, 
AVhen both were children, and in lonely haunts 
Would scratch a ragged oval on the sand,^ 

525 And each at either dash from either end — 

Shame never made girl redder than Gareth joy. 

He laugh 'd; he sprang. " Out of the smoke, at ojice 

I leap from Satan's foot to Peter's knee^ — 

These news be mine, none other's — nay, the King's — 

530 Descend into the city: " whereon he sought 
(^ The King alone, and found, and told him all. 

*' I have stagger'd thy strong Gawain in a tilt 
For pastime; yea he said it: joust can I. 

^ increasing and decreasing. Increscent, closures in which the tournaments were 
\\ke fluent, is nearer the Latin form. held. ' From Hell to Heaven, of which 

' in imitation of the oval lists or en- Peter holds the keys. 



20 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

Make me thy kniglit — in secret ! let my name 
535 Be liidd'n, and give me the first quest, I spring 
Like flame from ashes." 

Here the King's calm eye 
Fell on, and check 'd, and made him flush, and bow 
Lowly, to kiss his hand, who answer'd him, 
" Son, the good mother let me know thee here, 
54:0 And sent her wish that I would yield thee thine. ' 

Make thee my knight ? my knights are SAvorn to vows 
Of utter hardihood, utter gentleness. 
And, loving, utter faithfulness in love. 
And uttermost obedience to the King." 

545 Then Gareth, lightly springing from his knees, 
" My King, for hardihood I can promise tliee. 
For uttermost obedience make demand 
Of whom 3^e gave me to, the Seneschal, 
No mellow master of the meats and drinks! 

550 And as for love, God wot, I love not yet. 
But love I shall, God willing." 

And the King — 
" Make thee my knight in secret ? yea, but he. 
Our noblest brother, and our truest man. 
And one with me in all, iie needs must know." 

555 " Let Lancelot know, my King, let Lancelot know. 
Thy noblest and thy truest! " 

And the King — 
" But wherefore would ye men should wonder at you ? 
Nay, rather for the sake of me, their King, 
And the deed's sake my knighthood do the deed, 
560 Than to be noised of. ""^ 

' give you the honor which is rightly yours. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. . 21 

Merrily Garetli ask'd, 
. *' Have I not earned my cake in baking of it ? 

Let be my name until I make my name! ' 

My deeds will speak: it is but for a day." 

So with a kindly hand on Gareth's arm 
5G5 Smiled the great King, and half nnwillingly 

Loving his lusty youthhood yielded to him. 

Then, after summoning Lancelot privily, 

'' I have given him the first quest: he is not proven. 

Look therefore when he calls for this in hall, 
570 'J'hou get to horse and follow him far away. 

Cover the lions on thy shield,^ and see 

Far as thou mayest, he be nor ta'en nor slain." 

Then that same day there past into the hall 
A damsel of high lineage, and a brow 
575 May-blossom, and a cheek of apple-blossom, 
Hawk-ej^es; and lightly was her slender nose 
Tip-tilted like the petal of a flower; 
She into hall past with her page and cried, 

" King, for thou hast driven the foe without, 
580 See to the foe within! bridge, ford, beset 

By bandits, every one that owns a tower 

The Lord for half a league.^ Why sit ye there ? 

Rest would I not. Sir King, an I were king, 

Till ev'n the lonest hold * were all as free 
585 From cursed bloodshed, as thine altar-cloth 

From that blest blood it is a sin to spill." 

*' Comfort thyself," said Arthur, " I nor mine 
Rest: so my knighthood keep the vows they swore. 
The wastest moorland of our realm shall be 

> Nevermind inyname till I can make one. ^ That is, master of the territory just 
" Lancelot even in his armor was known around about his castle, 
by the device on his shield. See 1. 12T3. * castle. 



22 GARETH AND LYNETTE 

590 Safe, damsel, as the centre of this hall. 
What is thy name ? thy need ? " 

" My name ? " she said — 
^' Lynette my name; noble; my need, a knight 
To combat for my sister, Lyonors, 
A lady of high lineage, of great lands, 

595 And comely, yea, and comelier than myself. 
She lives in Castle Perilous: a river 
Kuns in three loops about her living-place; 
And o'er it are three passings, and three knights 
Defend the passings, brethren, and a fourth, 

600 And of that four the mightiest, holds her stay'd 
In her own castle and so besieges her 
To break her will, and make her wed with him : 
And but ^ delays his purport till thou send 
To do the battle with him, thy chief man 

605 Sir Lancelot whom he trusts to overthrow. 
Then wed, with glory; but she will not wed 
Save whom she loveth, or a holy life/ 
Now therefore have I come for Lancelot." 

Then Arthur mindful of Sir Gareth ask'd, 
610 " Damsel, ye know this Order ^ lives to crush 
All wrongers of the Eealm. But say, these four. 
Who be they ? What the fashion of the men ? " 

" They be of foolish fashion, Sir King, 
The fashion of that old* knight-errantry 
615 Who ride abroad and do but what they will; 
Courteous or bestial from the moment. 
Such as have nor law nor king : and three of these 
Proud in their fantasy call themselves, the Day, 

1 only. 3 the order of Arthur's knights, 

a To " wed a holy life " was to become a * before the time of Arthur, whose 
nun. knights had higher aims. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 23 

Morning-Star, and Noon-Sun, and Evening-Star, 
620 Being strong fools; and never a whit more wise 

The fourth who always rideth arm'd in black, 

A huge man-beast of boundless savagery. 

He names himself the Night and oftener Death, 

And wears a helmet mounted with a skull 
625 And bears a skeleton figured on his arms. 

To show that who may slay or scape the three 

Slain by himself shall enter endless night. 

And all these four be fools, but mighty men. 

And therefore am I come for Lancelot." ' 

630 Hereat Sir Garetli call'd from where he rose, 
A head with kindling eyes above the throng, 
'* A boon. Sir King — this quest! " then — for he mark'd 
Kay near him groaning like a wounded bull — 
" Yea, King, thou knowest thy kitchen-knave am I,'' 

635 And mighty thro' thy meats and drinks am I, 
And I can topple over a hundred such. 
Thy promise. King," and Arthur glancing at him. 
Brought down a momentary brow. " Rough, sudden. 
And pardonable, worthy to be knight — 

640 Go therefore," and all hearers were amazed. 

But on the damsel's forehead shame, pride, wrath, 
Slew the May- white; she lifted either arm, 
" Fie on thee. King! I ask'd for thy chief knight. 
And thou hast given me but a kitchen-knave." 
645 Then ere a man in hall could stay her, 1?urn'd, 
Fled down the lane of access to the King, 
Took horse, descended the slope street,^ and past 
The weird white gate, and paused without, beside 
The field of tourney, murmuring "kitchen-knave." 

» Lynette is inipetuons (11. 579-582) and size that which he knows will dispiist him 
persistent. most. * Canielot was a " high city," 

3 The sight of Kay makes Gareth empha- and the palace was on the summit. 



24 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

650 Now two great entries open'd from the hall. 
At one end one, that gave upon a range 
Of level pavement where the King could pace 
At sunrise, gazing over plain and wood ; 
And down from this a lordly stairway sloped 

055 Till lost in blowing trees and tops of towers.' 
And out by this main doorway past the King. 
But one Avas counter to'^ the hearth, and rose 
High that the highest-crested helm could ride 
Therethro' nor graze : and by this entry fled 

6G0 The damsel in her wrath, and on to this 

Sir Gareth strode, and saw without the door 
King Arthur's gift, the worth of half a town, 
A war-horse of the best, and near it stood 
The two that out of north had followed him. 

665 This^ bare a maiden shield, a casque;" that held 
The horse, the spear; whereat Sir Gareth loosed 
A cloak that dropped from collar-bone to heel, 
A cloth of roughest web, and cast it down, 
And from it like a f iiel-smother'd fire, 

670 That lookt half-dead, brake bright, and flash'd as those 
Dull-coated things, that making slide apart 
Their dusk wing-cases, all beneath there burns 
A jewel'd harness, ere they pass and fly. 
So Gareth ere he parted flash'd in arms. 

675 Then while he donn'd ' the helm, and took the shield 
And mounted horse and graspt a spear, of grain 
Storm-strengthened on a windy site, and tipt 
With trenchant ' steel, around him slowly prest 
The people, and from out of kitchen came 

680 The thralls in throng, and seeing who had work'd 
Lustier than any, and whom they could but love, 

1 The hill was so steep that from above, 3 this, one of the two ; that, the other, 
the road seemed to run among the tops of * helmet. 

houses. ® put on. 

2 opposite. ' good for cutting. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 25 

Mounted in arms^ threw up their caps and cried, 
" God bless the King, aud all liis fellowship! " 
And on thro' lanes of shouting Gareth rode 
G85 Down the slope street, and past without the gate. 

So Gareth past with joy; bat as the cur 
Pluckt from the cur he fights with, ere his cause 
Be cool'd by fighting, follows, being named,- 
His owner, but remembers all, and growls 
090 Remembering, so Sir Kay beside the door 
Mutter'd in scorn of Gareth whom he used 
To harry and hustle. 

'' Bound upon a quest 
With horse and arms — the King hath past his time ' — 
My scullion knave! Thralls to your work again. 

G95 For an your fire be low ye kindle mine! "^ 

Will there be dawn in West and eve in East?^ 
Begone! — my knave! — belike and like enow 
Some old head-blow* not heeded in his youth 
So shook his wits they wander in his j^rime — 

700 Crazed! How the villain lifted up his voice. 
Nor shamed to bawl himself a kitchen-knave. 
Tut: he was tame and meek enow with me. 
Till peacock'd up with Lancelot's noticing. 
Well — I will after my loud knave, and learn 

705 AVhetlier he know me for his master yet. 
Out of the smoke he came, and so my lance 
Hold, by God's grace, he shall into the mire — 
Thence, if the King awaken from his craze. 
Into the smoke again." 

But Lancelot said, 
710 " Kay, wherefore will ye go against the King, 

1 He is in his dotage. * If not in his dotage, something is wrong 

2 Mij fire is metaphorical. with his mind : it may be that some old 

3 Is the order of everything to be reversed ? wound has unsettled him. 



26 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

For that did never he ' whereon ye rail. 
But ever meekly served the King in thee ? 
Abide: take counsel; for tliis lad is great 
And lusty, and knowing both of lance and sword." 
715 " Tut, tell not me," said Kay, ''ye are over-fine 
To mar stout knaves with foolish courtesies." 
Then mounted, on thro' silent faces ^ rode 
Down the slope city, and out beyond the gate. 

But by the field of tourney lingering yet 
720 Muttered the damsel, " Wherefore did the King 
Scorn me ? for, were Sir Lancelot lackt, at least 
He might have yielded to me one of those 
AYho tilt for lady's love and glory here. 
Rather than — sweet heaven ! fie u j)on him — 
725 His kitchen-knave." 

To whom Sir Gareth drew 
(And there were none but tew goodlier than he) 
Shining in arms, '' Damsel, the quest is mine. 
Lead, and I follow." She thereat, as one 
That smells a foul-flesh'd agaric ^ in the holt,* 

730 And deems it carrion of some woodland thing, 
Or shrew, or weasel, nipt her slender nose 
With petulant thumb and finger, shrilling,'^ ''Hence! 
Avoid, thou smellest all of kitchen-grease. 
And look who comes behind," for there was Kay. 

735 "Knowest thou not me? thy master? I am Kay. 
We lack thee by the hearth." 

And Gareth to him, 
" Master no more! too well I know thee, ay — 
The most ungentle knight in Arthur's hall." 

1 Gareth. ^ a mushroom. 

2 The people had no love for him as they •* the wood. 

had for Gareth (1. 6&4). * crying in a shrill voice. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 27 

*' Have at thee then/' said Kay; they shock'd, and Kay 
740 Fell shoulder-slipt/ and Gareth cried again, 
*' Lead, and I follow," and fast away she fled. 

But after sod and shingle ^ ceased to fly 

Behind her, and the heart of her good horse 

Was nigh to burst with violence of the beat, 
745 Perforce she stay'd, and overtaken spoke. 

"What doest thou, scullion, in my fellowship? 

Deem'st thou that 1 accept thee aught the more. 

Or love thee better, that by some device 

Full cowardly, or by mere unhappiness, 
750 Thou hast overthrown and slain thy master — thou! — 

Dish-washer and broach-turner, loon ! — to me 

Thou smellest all of kitchen as before." 

** Damsel," Sir Gareth answer'd gently, "say 
Whate'er ye will, but whatsoe'er ye say, 
755 I leave not till I finish this fair quest. 
Or die therefor." 

" Ay, wilt thou finish it? 
Sweet lord, how like a noble knight he talks! 
The listening rogue hath caught the manner of it. 
But, knave, anon thou shalt be met with,^ knave, 
760 And then by such a one that thou for all 
The kitchen brewis* that was ever supt 
Shalt not once dare to look him in the face." 

" I shall assay," ^ said Gareth with a smile 
That madden'd her, and away she flash 'd again 
765 Down the long avenues of boundless wood, 
And Gareth following was again beknaved." 

* His shoulder dislocated. * Thickened soup or broth. 

3 coarse gravel. * attempt. 

8 As we say " come up with." * called a knave. 



28 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

*' Sir Kitcheu-knave, I have miss'd the only way 
Where Arthur's men are set along the wood ; 
The wood is nigh as full of thieves as leaves : 
770 If both be slain, I am rid of thee; but yet. 

Sir Scullion, canst thou use that spit ' of thine ? 
Fight, an thou canst: I have miss'd the only way." 

So till the dusk that followed even-song 
Eode on the two, reviler and reviled: 

775 Then after one long slope was mounted, saw. 

Bowl-shaped, thro' tops of many thousand pines, 
A gloomy-gladed hollow slowly sink 
To westward — in the deeps whereof a mere,'^ 
Round as the red eye of an Eagle-owl, 

780 Under the half-dead sunset glared ; and cries 
Ascended, and there brake a serving-man 
Flying from out of the black wood, and crying, 
'' They have bound my lord to cast him in the mere." 
Then Gareth, " Bound am I to right the wrong'd, 

785 But straitlier bound am I to bide Avith thee." 
And when the damsel spake contemptuously, 
" Lead and I follow," Gareth cried again, 
" Follow, I lead! " so down among the pines 
He plunged, and there, black -shadow'd nigh the mere^ 

790 And mid-thigh-deep, in bulrushes and reed. 
Saw six tall men haling^ a seventh along, 
A stone about his neck, to drown him in it. 
Three with good blows he quieted, but three 
Fled thro' the pines; and Gareth loosed the stone 

795 From off his neck, then in the mere beside 
Tumbled it; oilily bubbled up the mere. 
Last, Gareth loosed his bonds and on free feet 
Set him a stalwart Baron, Arthur's friend. 

1 She calls his lance a spit because he had 2 a ]ittie pond, 
been in the kitchen. ^ an older form of hauling. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 29 

*' Well that ye came, or else these caitiff ' rogues 
800 Had wreak'd themselves on me; good cause is theirs 
To hate me, for my wont hath ever been 
To catch my thief, and then like vermin here 
Drown him, and with a stone about his neck; 
And under this wan water many of them 
805 Lie rotting, but at night let go the stone. 
And rise, and flickering in a grimly light 
Dance on the mere. Good now, ye have saved a life 
Worth somewhat as the cleanser of this wood. 
And fain would I reward thee worshipfully. 
810 What guerdon Avill ye? " 

Gareth sharply spake, 
*' None! for the deed's sake have I done the deed. 
In uttermost obedience to the King. 
But will ye yield this damsel harborage? " 

Whereat the Baron saying, " I well believe 

815 Ye be of Arthur's Table," a light laugh 
Broke frohi Lynette, " Ay, truly of a trutii, 
And in a sort, being Arthur's kitchen-knave! — 
But deem not I accept thee aught the more. 
Scullion, for running sharply with thy spit 

820 Down on a rout ^ of craven foresters. 

A thresher with his flail had scatter'd them. 
Nay — for thou smellest of the kitchen still. 
But an this lord will yield us harborage. 
Well." 

So she spake. A league beyond the w^ood, 
825 All in a full-fair manor and a rich, 

His towers where that day a feast had been 
Held in high hall, and many a viand left, 

^ villaiuouB. ' used contemptuously, as we might say a viob. 



30 GAKETH AND LYNETTE. 

And many a costly cate/ received the three. 
And there they placed a peacock in his pride ' 
830 Before the damsel, and the Baron set 
Gareth beside her, but at once she rose. 

" Meseems ^ that here is much discourtesy. 
Setting this knave, Lord Baron, at my side. 
Hear me — this morn I stood in Arthur's hall, 

835 And pray'd the King would grant me Lancelot 
To fight the brotherhood of Day and Night — 
The last a monster unsubduable 
Of any save of him for whom I call'd — 
Suddenly bawls this frontless " kitchen-kuave, 

840 ' The quest is mine; thy kitchen-knave am I, 
And mighty thro' thy meats and drinks am L' 
Then Arthur all at once gone mad replies, 
' Go therefore,' and so gives the quest to him — 
Him — here — a villain^ fitter to stick swine 

845 Than ride abroad redressing women's wrong, 
Or sit beside a noble gentlewoman." 

Then half-ashamed and part amazed, the lord 
Now look'd at one and now at other, left 
The damsel by the peacock in his pride, 
850 And, seating Gareth at another board," 
Sat down beside him, ate and then began. 

'' Friend, whether ye be kitchen-knave, or not. 
Or whether it be the maiden's fantasy. 
And whether she be mad, or else the King, 
855 Or both or neither, or thyself be mad, 

I ask not; but thou strikest a strong stroke, 

1 an article of food. 3 It seems to me. 

2 A peacock with his tail spread was •* shameless. 

called in the books of heraldry " a peacock ^ gee note on 1. 157, where the word is 
in his pride.'' used as an adjective. « a side- table. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 81 

For strong thou art and goodly therewithal, 
And saver of my life ; and therefore now. 
For here be mighty men to joust with, weigh 
B60 Whether thou wilt not wdth thy damsel back 
To crave again Sir Lancelot of the King. ' 
Thy pardon; I but speak for thine avail. 
The saver of my life." 

And Gareth said, 
" Full pardon, but I follow up the quest, 
B65 Despite of Day and Night and Death and Hell." ' 

So when, next morn, the lord whose life he saved 
Had, some brief space, convey'd them on their way 
And left them with God-speed, Sir Gareth spake, 
*' Lead, and I follow." Haughtily she replied, 

570 '' I fly no more: I allow thee for an hour. 
Lion aud stoat have isled^ together, knave. 
In time of flood. Nay, furthermore, methinks 
Some ruth * is mine for thee. Back wilt thou, fool ? 
For hard by here is one who will overthrow 

575 And slay thee: then will I to court again. 
And shame the King for only yielding me 
My champion from the ashes of his hearth." 

To whom Sir Gareth answer'd courteously, 
" Say thou thy say, and I will do my deed. 
580 Allow me for mine hour, and thou wilt find 
My fortunes all as fair as hers, who lay 
Among the ashes and wedded the King's son." ' 

Then to the shore of one of those long loops 
Wherethro' the serpent river coil'd, they came. 

> To ask the king to send Lancelot. ^ \ia\e climbed for safety on an islet. 

2 Gareth goee a 8t«p farther than the alle- * pity. 
;ory, meaning that nothing shall daunt him. * Cinderella. 



32 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

885 Rough thicketed were the banks and steep; the stream 
Full^ narrow; this a bridge of single arc 
Took at a leap ; and on the further side 
Arose a silk pavilion^ gay with gold 
In streaks and rays, and all Lent-lily ' in hue, 

890 Save that the dome was purple, and above. 
Crimson, a slender banneret fluttering. 
And therebefore the lawless warrior paced 
Unarm'd, and calling, '* Damsel, is this he. 
The champion ye have brought from Arthur's hall ? 

895 For whom we let thee pass." " Nay, nay," she said, 
" Sir Morning-Star. The King in utter scorn 
Of thee and thy much folly hath sent thee here 
His kitchen-knave: and look thou to thyself: 
See that he fall not on thee suddenly, 

900 And slay thee unarm'd: he is not knight but knave." 

Then at his call, " daughters of the Dawn, 
And servants of the Morning-Star, approach. 
Arm me," from out the silken curtain-folds 
Barefooted and bareheaded three fair girls 

905 In gilt and rosy raiment came: their feet 
In dewy grasses glisten'd; and the hair 
All over glanced with dewdrop or with gem 
Like sparkles in the stone Avanturine/ 
These arm'd him in blue arms, and gave a shield 

910 Blue also, and thereon the morning star. 
And Gareth silent gazed upon the knight. 
Who stood a moment, ere his horse was brought. 
Glorying; and in the stream beneath him, shone, 
Immingled with Heaven's azure waveringly, 

915 The gay pavilion and the naked feet, 
His arms, the rosy raiment, and the star. 

1 The " Lent-lily " is the yellow daffodil. ^ a kind of quartz, containing mica. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 33 

Then she that watch'd him/ " Wherefore stare ye so ? 
TJiou shakest in thy fear: there yet is time: 
Flee down the valley before he get to horse. 
920 Who will cry shame ? Thon art not knight but knave." 

Said Gareth, " Damsel, whether knave or knight. 
Far liefer had I fight a score of times 
Than hear thee so missay ^ me and revile. 
Fair words were best for him who fights for thee; 
925 But truly foul are better, for they send 

That strength of anger thro' mine arms, I know 
That I shall overthrow him." 

And he that bore 
The star, being mounted, cried from o'er the bridge, 
*' A kitchen-knave, and sent in scorn of me! 

930 Such fight not I> but answer scorn with scorn. 
For this were shame to do him further wrong 
Than set him on his feet, and take his horse 
And arms, and so return him to the King. 
Come, therefore, leave thy lady lightly, knave. 

935 Avoid : for it beseemeth not a knave 
To ride with such a lady." 

" Dog, thou liest. 
I spring from loftier lineage than thine own." 
He spake; and all at fiery speed the two 
Shock'd on the central bridge, and either spear 

940 Be tit but not brake, and either knight at once, 
Hurl'd as a stone from out of a catapult 
Beyond his horse's crupper and the bridge. 
Fell, as if dead; but quickly rose and drew. 
And Gareth lash'd so fiercely with his brand 

945 He drave his enemy backward down the bridge, 

' Lynette. ' speak wrongly of me. 



34 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

The damsel crying, " Well-stricken, kitchen-knave! " 
Till Gareth's shield was cloven; but one stroke 
Laid him that clove it grovelling on the ground/ 

Then cried the fall'n, " Take not my life: I yield." 

950 And Gareth, " So this damsel ask it of me 
Good — I accord it easily as a grace." 
She reddening, '' Insolent scullion: I of thee? 
I bound to thee for any favor ask'd! " 
^' Then shall he die." ^ And Gareth there unlaced 

955 His helmet as^ to slay him, but she shriek'd, 
'' Be not so hardy, scullion, as to slay 
One nobler than thyself." '^ Damsel, thy charge 
Is an abounding pleasure to me. Knight, 
Thy life is thine at her command. Arise 

960 And quickly pass to Arthur's hall, and say 

His kitchen-knave hath sent thee. See thou crave 
His pardon for thy breaking of his laws. 
Myself, when I return, will plead for thee. 
Thy shield is mine* — farewell; and, damsel, thou 

965 Lead, and I follow." 

And fast away she fled. 
Then when he came upon her, spake, " Methought,* 
Knave, when I watch 'd thee striking on the bridge 
The savor of thy kitchen came upon me 
A little faintlier: but the wind hath changed: 
970 I scent it twentyfold." And then she sang, 
'^ ^ morning star ' (not that tall felon there 
Whom thou by sorcery or unhappiness ° 

' The combats between Gareth and the * He takes the shield of the Morning-Star, 

brothers have an allegorical meaning, for See 11. 1008, 1011. 

which see p. xiv. ^ it geemed to me. 3fe is here the 

' That is, if you will not ask for his life. dative. 

8 as if. * mischance. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 35 

Or some device, liast foully overthrown), 

* morning star that smilest in the blue, 
375 star, my morning dream hath proven true. 

Smile sweetly, thou! my love hath smiled on me." 

'^ But thou begone, take counsel, and away. 
For hard by here is one that guards a ford — 
The second brother in their fool's 2)arable^ — 
)80 AVill pay thee all thy wages, and to boot/ 

Care not for shame: thou art not knight but knave." 

To whom Sir Gareth answer'd, laughingly, 
" Parables? Hear a parable of the knave. 
When I was a kitchen-knave among the rest 
)85 Fierce was the hearth, and one of my co-mates 
Own'd a rough dog, to whom he cast his coat, 

* Guard it,' and there was none to meddle with it.* 
And such a coat art thou, and thee the King 
Gave me to guard, and such a dog am I, 

)90 To worry, and not to flee — and — knight or knave — 
The knave that doth thee service as full knight 
Is all as good, meseems, as any knight 
Toward thy sister's freeing." 

''Ay, Sir Knave! 
Ay, knave, because thou strikest as a knight, 
)95 Being but knave, I hate thee all the more." 

" Fair damsel, ye should worship ^ me the more. 
That, being but knave, I throw thine enemies." 

" Ay, ay," she said, ^' but thou shalt meet thy match." 

1 These songs of Lynette are, of course, 3 in addition. 

:'enny8on'8 way of showing the gradual * No one dared to touch it. 

hange of her feeling. 6 Worship and honor in the old romances 

3 See 1. 1169 f. have much the same sense. 



36 GARETH AND LYKETTE. 

So when they touch 'd the second riverloop, 

1000 Huge on a huge red horse, and all in mail 

Burnish'd to blinding, shone the Noonday Sun 

Beyond a raging shallow. As if the flower, 

That blows a globe of after arrowlets. 

Ten thousandfold haj[l grp wn^. flash 'd^ the fierce shield, 

1005 All sun; and Gareth's eyes had fliyrng blots 

Before them when he turn'd from watching him. 
He from behind the roaring shallow roar'd 
" What doest thou, brother,^ in my marches^ here? " 
And she athwart the shallow shrill'd again, 

1010 " Here is a kitchen-knave from Arthur's hall 

Hath, overthrown thy brother, and hath his arms." 
" Ugh ! " cried the Sun, and vizoring up ^ a red 
And cipher face of rounded foolishness, 
Piish'd horse across tlie foamings of the ford, 

1015 Whom Gareth met midstream; no room was there 
For lance or tourney-skill: four strokes they struck 
With sword, and these were mighty; the new knight 
Had fear he might be shamed ; but as the Sun 
Heaved up a 2)onderous arm to strike the fifth, 

1020 The hoof of his horse slipt in the stream, the stream 
Descended, and the Sun was wash'd away. 

Then Gareth laid his lance athwart the ford; 
So drew him home; but he that would not fight. 
As being all bone-battered on the rock, 
1025 Yielded ; and Gareth sent him to the King. 
" Myself when I return will plead for thee. 
Lead, and I follow." Quietly she led. 
''Hath not the good wind, damsel, changed again?"* 
"' Nay, not a point: ^ nor art thou victor here. 

» He thought Gareth was the Morning- •» See 1. 969. 

Star, because he had taken his shield. ^ ^ot a point of the compass, by which 

2 boundaries. the wind is commonly reckoned. Lynette 

3 covering by closing his visor. will not yet admit that she was wrong. 



GARETII AND LYNETTE. 37 

1030 There lies a ridge of slate across the ford; 

Ilis horse thereon stumbled — ay, for I saw it. 

" ' Sun ' (not this strong fool who thou, Sir Knave, 
Hast overthrown thro' mere unhappiness), 
' Sun, that wakenest all to bliss or pain, 
1035 moon, that layest all to sleep again. 

Shine sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me.' 

" What knowest thou ^ of lovesong or of love ? 
Nay, nay, God wot, so thou wert nobly born, 
Thon hast a pleasant j)resence. Yea, perchance,^ 



1040 " ' dewy flowers that open to the sun, 
dewy flowers that close when day is done. 
Blow sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me.' 

" What knowest thou of flowers, except, belike. 
To garnish meats with ? hath not our good King 
1045 Who lent me thee, the flower of kitchendom, 
A foolish love for flowers ? what stick ye round 
The pasty ? wherewithal deck the boar's head ? 
Flowers ? nay, the boar hath rosemaries and bay. 

'* ' birds, that warble to the morning sky, 
1050 birds, that warble as the day goes by. 

Sing sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me.' 

" What knowest thou of birds, lark, mavis,' merle/ 
Linnet? what dream ye when they utter forth 
May-music growing with the growing light, 
1055 Their sweet sun-worship ? these be for the snare 
(So runs thy fancy), these be for the spit,^ 

■ How should a scullion know anything ^ thrush. ♦ blackbird, 

of noble life ? * You only think whether they are suit- 

2 perhaps. able for the kitchen or not. 



88 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

Larding and basting. See thou have not now 
Larded thy last, except ^ thou turn and fly. 
There stands the third fool of their allegory." 

lOGO For there beyond a bridge of treble bow. 
All in a rose-red from the west, and all 
Naked it seem'd, and glowing in the broad 
Deep-dimpled current underneath, the knight. 
That named himself the Star of Evening, stood. 

1065 And Gareth, " Wherefore waits the madman there 
Naked in open dayshine ? " '' Nay," she cried, 
" Not naked, only wrapt in hardened skins 
That fit him like his own ; and so ye cleave 
His armor off him, these will turn the blade." 

1070 Then the third brother shouted o'er the bridge, 
" brother-star, why shine ye here so low ? 
Thy ward^ is higher up: but have ye slain 
The damsel's champion? " and the damsel cried, 

'^No star of thine, but shot from Arthur's heaven 
1075 With all disaster unto thine and thee! 

For both thy younger brethren have gone down 
Before this youth; and so wilt thou, Sir Star; 
Art thou not old?" 

" Old, damsel, old and hard. 
Old, with the might and breath of twenty boys. ' 
1080 Said Gareth, '' Old, and over-bold in brag! 

But that same strength which threw the Morning-Star 
Can throw the Evening." 

Then that other blew 
A hard and deadly note upon the horn. 

^ unless. ' place to giiard. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 89 

'' Approach and arm me! " With slow steps from out 

1085 An old storm-beaten, russet, many-stain'd 
Pavilion, forth a grizzled damsel came, 
And arm'd him in old arms, and brought a helm 
With but a drying evergreen for crest. 
And gave a shield whereon the Star of Even 

1090 Half-tarnish'd and half-bright, his emblem, shone.' 
But when it glittered over the saddle-bow. 
They madly hurPd together on the bridge, 
And Gareth overthrew him, lighted, drew, 
There met him drawn, and overthrew him again, 

1095 But up like fire he started : and as oft 

As Gareth brought him grovelling on his knees. 
So many a time he vaulted up again; 
Till Gareth panted hard, and his great heart. 
Foredooming^ all his trouble was in vain, 

1100 Labor'd within him, for he seem'd as one 
That all in later, sadder age begins 
To war against ill uses of a life. 
But these from all his life arise, and cry, 
** Thou hast made us lords, and canst not put us down ! " 

1105 He half desj^airs; so Gareth seem'd to strike 
Vainly, the damsel clamoring all the while, 
" Well done, knave-knight, well-stricken, good 

knight-knave — 
knave, as noble as any of all the knights — 
Shame me not, shame me not. I have prophesied — 

1110 Strike, thou art worthy of the Table Round — 
His arms are old, he trusts the hardened skin — 
Strike — strike — the wind will never change again." ^ 
And Gareth hearing ever stronglier smote, 
And hew'd great pieces of his armor off him, 

1115 But lash'd in vain against the harden'd skin, 

» Note the difEerence from the arras of the ^ judging beforehand. 
Morning-Star. » See 11. 969, 1028. 



40 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

And could not wholly bring him under, more 
Than loud South westerns, rolling ridge on ridge. 
The buoy that rides at sea, and dips and springs 
Forever; till at length Sir Gareth's brand 

1120 Clash'd his, and brake it utterly to the hilt. 

^' I have thee now; " but forth that other sprang. 
And, all unknightlike, writhed his wiry arms 
Around him, till he felt, despite his mail. 
Strangled, bat straining ev'n his uttermost 

1125 Cast, and so liurl'd him headlong o'er the bridge 
Down to the river, sink or swim, and cried, 
''Lead, and I follow." 

But the damsel said, 
" I lead no longer; ride thou at my side; 
Thou art the kingliest of all kitchen-knaves.* 

1130 " ' trefoil, sparkling on the rainy plain, 
rainbow with three colors after rain. 
Shine sweetly: thrice my love hath smiled on me.' * 

" Sir, — and good faith, I fain had added — knight. 
But that I heard thee call thyself a knave, — 

1135 Shamed am I that I so rebuked, reviled, 

Missaid thee; noble I am; and thought the King 
Scorn'd me and mine; and now thy pardon, friend. 
For thou hast ever answer'd courteously. 
And wholly bold thou art, and meek withal 

1140 As any of Arthur's best, but, being knave. 

Hast mazed my wit: I marvel what thou art." 

" Damsel," he said, ''ye be not all to blame. 
Saving that ye mistrusted our good King 
Would handle scorn, or yield thee, asking, one 

» scullions. 3 See 1. 976. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 41 

1145 Not fit to cope tliy quest.' Ye said your say; 
Miue answer was my deed. Good sooth ! I hold 
He scarce is knight, yea but half-man, nor meet 
To fight for gentle damsel, he, who lets 
His heart be stirr'd with any foolish heat 

1150 At any gentle damsel's waywardness. 

Shamed ? care not! thy foul sayings fought for me: 
And seeing now my words are fair, methinks, 
There rides no knight, not Lancelot, his great self,'^ 
Hath force to quell me. ' ' 

Nigh upon that hour 

1155 When the lone hern forgets his melancholy. 

Lets down his other leg, and stretching dreams 
Of goodly supper in the distant pool. 
Then turn'd the noble damsel smiling at him. 
And told him of a cavern hard at hand, 

1160 Where bread and baken meats and good red wine 
Of Southland, which the Lady Lyonors 
Had sent her coming champion, waited him. 

Anon they past a narrow comb ^ wherein 
Were slabs of rock with figures, knights on horse 

1165 Sculptured, and deckt in slowly-waning hues. 

*' Sir Knave, my knight, a hermit once was here, 
Whose holy hand hath fashion'd on the rock 
The war of Time against the soul of man. 
And yon four fools have suck'd their allegory 

1170 From these damp walls, and taken but the form.* 
Know ye not these ? " and Gareth lookt and read — 
In letters like to those the vexillary 

J to accomplish your adventure. * The allegory as inscribed on the rock 

2 Lancelot was the most powerful of the had a meaning. The brothers took but the 

Knights of the Round Tal)le. names and forms, having no conception of 

8 A comb is a hollow in a hillside. the thought at bottom. 



42 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

Hath left crag-carv^en o'er the streaming Gelt ^ — 
"Phosphorus/' then "Meridies" — " Hesperus" — 

1175 " Nox " — " Mors/ " beneath five figures, armed men. 
Slab after slab, their faces forward all. 
And running down the Soul, a Shape that fled 
With broken wings, torn raiment and loose hair, 
For help and shelter to the hermit's cave/ 

1180 *' Follow the faces, and we find it. Look, 
Who comes behind ? " 

For one — delay 'd at first 
Thro' helping back the dislocated Kay 
To Camelot, then by what thereafter chanced, 
The damsel's headlong error * thro' the wood — 

1185 Sir Lancelot having swum the river-loops — 
His blue shiekLlions cover'd — softly drew 
Behind the twain, and when he saw the star ^ 
Gleam, on Sir Gareth's turning to him, cried, 
" Stay, felon knight, I avenge me for my friend." 

1190 And Gareth crying prick'd against the cry; 

But when they closed — in a moment — at one touch 
Of that skill'd spear, the wonder of the world — 
Went sliding down so easily, and fell. 
That when he found the grass within his hands 

1195 He laugh'd; the laughter jarr'd upon Lynette: 

Harshly she ask'd him, " Shamed and overthrown. 

And tumbled back into the kitchen-knave. 

Why laugh ye ? that ye blew your boast in vain ? " 

> There are Roman inscriptions cut in a ^ The liermit's idea emphasized the strug- 

rock above the Gelt, a small stream in Cum- gle of the soul in the world. The soul, pur- 

berland. One of them has mention of a sued by Youth, Middle Age, Old Age, and 

vexiUatio, or detachment of one of the old Death, seeks refuge in Religion. 

Roman legions. The vexillary would have * wandering from the path, 

been a soldier in such a detachment. ^ Lancelot, on seeing the shield of the 

2 These are Latin names for " Morn- Morning-Star, thought Gareth had been 

ing Star," " Midday," " Evening Star," overcome. A knight was known by his 

"Night," "Death." shield. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 43 

'" Nay, noble damsel, but that I, the son 
1200 Of old King Lot and good Queen Bellicent, 
And victor of the bridges and the ford. 
And knight of Arthur, here lie thrown by whom 
I know not, all thro' mere unhappiness — 
Device and sorcery and unhappiness — 
1205 Oat, sword; we are thrown!" and Lancelot answer'd, 
*' Prince, 
Gareth — thro' the mere unhappiness 
Of one who came to help thee not to harm, 
Lancelot, and all as glad to find thee whole. 
As on the day when Arthur knighted him." 

1210 Then Gareth, " Thou — Lancelot! — thine the hand 
That threw me ? And some chance to mar the boast 
Thy brethren of thee make — which could not chance — 
Had sent thee down before a lesser spear 
Shamed had I been and sad — Lancelot — thou! " 

1215 Whereat the maiden, petulant, " Lancelot, 

Why came ye not, when call'd ? and wherefore now 
Come ye, not call'd ? I gloried in my knave. 
Who being still ' rebuked, would answer still 
Courteous as any knight — but now, if knight, 

1220 The marvel dies, and leaves me fool'd and trick'd, 
And only wondering wherefore j^lay'd upon : 
And doubtful whether I and mine be scorn'd. 
AVliere should be truth if not in Arthur's hall,^ 
In Arthur's presence ? Knight, knave, prince and fool, 

1225 I hate thee and forever." 

And Lancelot said, 
" Blessed be thou. Sir Gareth ! knight art thou 

> continually. 

2 Yet even in the court of Arthur, Gareth had appeared deceitfully. See 1. 291. 



44 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

To the King's best wish. damsel, be ye wise 
To call him shamed, who is but overthrown ? 
Thrown have I been, nor once, but many a, time. 

1230 Victor from vanquish'd issues at the last. 
And overthrower from being overthrown. 
With sword we have not striven; ' and thy good horse 
And thou art weary; yet not less I felt 
Thy manhood thro' that wearied lance of thine. 

1235 Well hast thou done: for all the stream is freed, 
And thou hast wreak 'd his justice on his foes. 
And when reviled, hast answer'd graciously. 
And makest merry, wheu overthrown. Prince, Knight, 
Hail, Knight and Prince, and of our Table Round! " 

1240 And then when turning to Lynette he told 
The tale of Gareth, petulantly she said, 
" Ay well — ay well — for worse than being fool'd 
Of others, is to fool one's self. A cave. 
Sir Lancelot, is hard by, with meats and drinks 

1245 And forage for tlie horse, and flint for fire. 
But all about it flies a honeysuckle. 
Seek, till we find." And when they sought and found. 
Sir Gareth drank and ate, and all his life 
Past into sleep; on whom the maiden gaz'd. 

1250 " Sound sleep be thine! sound cause to sleep hast thou. 
AVake lusty! Seem I not as tender to him 
As any mother ? Ay, but such a one 
As all day long hath rated at her child. 
And vext his day, but blesses him asleep — 

1255 Good lord, how sweetly smells the honeysuckle 
In the hush'd night, as if the world were one 
Of utter peace, and love, and gentleness ! 
Lancelot, Lancelot " — and she clapt her hands — 

' The meeting on horseback, lance in rest, was generally followed by combat with sword 
on foot. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 45 

" Full merry am I to find my goodly knave 
1260 Is knight and noble. See now, sworn have I, 
Else yon black felon had not let me pass,' 
To bring thee back to do the battle with him. 
Thus an thou goest, he will fight thee first: 
Who doubts thee victor? so will my knight-knave 
1265 Miss the full flower of this accomplishment." ' 

Said Lancelot, '^ Perad venture he you name. 
May know my shield. Let Gareth, an he will. 
Change his for mine, and take my charger, fresh, 
Not to be spurr'd, loving the battle as well 
1270 As he that rides him." " Lancelot-like," she said, 
^' Courteous in this. Lord Lancelot, as in all." 

And Gareth, wakening, fiercely clutch'd the shield; 
'^ Ramp, ye lance-splintering lions, ^ on whom all spears 
Are rotten sticks! ye seem agape to roar! 

1275 Yea, ramp and roar at leaving of your lord! — 
Care not, good beasts, so well I care for you. 
noble Lancelot, from my hold on these 
Streams virtue — fire — thro' one that will not shame 
Even the shadow of Lancelot under shield. 

1280 Hence let us go." 

Silent the silent field 
They traversed. Arthur's harp* tho' summer-wan. 
In counter-motion * to the clouds, allured 
The glance of Gareth dreaming on his liege. 
A star shot: " Lo," said Gareth, '' the foe falls! " 
1285 An owl wlioopt: "Hark the victor pealing there! " 

» See II. 604, 605. so dark as in whiter, so that the stars seem 

9 deed accomplished. less bright. 

s on Lancelot's shield. * The clouds passing over the star made it 

*" Arthur's Harp ■" was the name of a seem as though it were going in the contrary 

constellation or of a star. It is pale in sum- direction. Counter-molion \ae&ns laoiiov 

mer because in summer the nights arc not the other way. 



46 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

Suddenly she that rode upon his left 
Clung to the shield that Lancelot lent him crying, 
" Yield, yield him this again: 'tis he must fight: ' 
I curse the tongue that all thro' yesterday 
1290 Reviled thee, and hath wrought on Lancelot now 

To lend thee horse and shield: wonders ye have done; 
Miracles ye cannot: here is glory enow 
In having flung the three: I see thee maim'd. 
Mangled: I swear thou canst not fling the fourth." 

1295 "And wherefore, damsel? tell me all ye know. 
Ye cannot scare me ; nor rough face, or voice. 
Brute bulk of limb, or boundless savagery 
Appall me from the quest." 

"Nay, Prince," she cried, 
" God wot, I never look'd upon the face, 

1300 Seeing he never rides abroad by day; 

But watch'd him have I like a phantom pass 
Chilling the night : nor have I heard the voice. 
Always he made his mouthpiece of a page 
Who came and went, and still reported him 

1305 As closing in himself the strength of ten. 
And when his anger tare him, massacring 
Man, woman, lad and girl — yea, the soft babe — 
Some hold that he hath swallow'd infant flesh. 
Monster! Prince, I went for Lancelot first, 

1310 The quest is Lancelot's: give him back the shield." 

Said Gareth laughing, " An he fight for this. 
Belike he wins it as the better man: 
Thus— and not else?" 

But Lancelot on him urged 
All the devisings of their chivalry 

1 Lynette was seized with sudden fear ; she had wished that Gareth should have all the 
honor ; now she fears the danger so much that she wishes Lancelot to take the adventure. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 47 

1315 Where one might meet a mightier than himself; 

How best to manage horse, lance, sword and shield. 
And so fill up the gap where force might fail 
With skill and fineness.' Instant^ were his words. 

Then Gareth, '^Here be rules. I know but one — 
1320 To dash against mine enemy and to win. 

Yet have I watch 'd thee victor in the joust. 
And seen thy way."^ "Heaven help thee," sigh'd 
Lynette. 

Then for a space, and under cloud that grew 
To thunder-gloom palling all stars, they rode 

1325 In converse till she made her palfrey halt. 

Lifted an arm, and softly whisper'd, " There." 
And all the three were silent seeing, pitch 'd 
Beside the Castle Perilous on flat field, 
A huge pavilion like a mountain joeak 

1330 Sunder the glooming crimson on the marge. 

Black, with black banner, and a long black horn 
Beside it hanging; Avhich Sir Gareth graspt. 
And so, before the two could hinder him. 
Sent all his heart and breath thro' all the horn. 

1335 Echo'd the walls; a light twinkled; anon 

Came lights and lights, and once again he blew; 
Whereon were hollow tramplings up and down 
And muffled voices heard, and shadows past; 
Till high above him, circled with her maids, 

1340 The Lady Lyonors at a window stood. 

Beautiful among lights, and waving to him 
White hands, and courtesy; but when the Prince 
Three times had blown — after long hush — at last — 
The huge pavilion slowly yielded up, 

^ delicacy. ' lu spite of hia headlong daeh, Gareth 

' pressing. had noticed Lancelot carefully. 



48 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 

1345 Thro' those black foldings^ that which housed ' therein. 
High on a nightblack horse, in nightblack arms. 
With white breast-bone, and barren ribs of Death, 
And crown'd with fleshless laughter — some ten steps — 
In the half light — through the dim dawn — advanced 

1350 The monster, and then paused, and spake no word. 

But Gareth spake and all indignantly. 
" Fool, for thou hast, men say, the strength of ten. 
Canst thou not trust the limbs thy God hath given. 
But must, to make the terror of thee more, 

1355 Trick thyself out in ghastly imageries 

Of that which Life hath done with, and the clod. 
Less dull than thou, will hide with mantling flowers 
As if for pity ? " ^ But he spake no word; 
Which set the horror higher: a maiden swoon'd; 

1360 The Lady Lyonors wrung her hands and wept. 
As doom'd to be the bride of Night and Death; 
Sir Gareth's head prickled beneath his helm; 
And ev'n Sir Lancelot thro' his warm blood felt 
Ice strike, and all that mark'd him were aghast. 

1365 At once Sir Lancelot's charger fiercely neigh'd — 
At once the black horse bounded forward with him. 
Then tliose that did not blink the terror, saw 
That Death was cast to ground, and slowly rose. 
But with one stroke Sir Gareth split the skull. 

1370 Half fell to right and half to left and lay. 
Then with a stronger buffet he cleft the helm 
As throughly ^ as the skull ; and out from this 
Issued the bright face of a blooming boy 
Fresh as a flower new-born, and crying, '^ Knight, 

1375 Slay me not: my three brethren bade me do it, 

1 dwelt. 

2 Even the earth hides the dead with flowers rather than with signs of mourning, 

3 entirely. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE. 49 

To make a horror all about the house. 

And stay the world from Lady Lyouors. 

They never dream'd the passes would be past." 

Answer'd Sir Gareth graciously to one 
1380 Not many a moon his younger, " My fair child. 

What madness made thee challenge the chief knight 

Of Arthur's hall ? " " Fair Sir, they bade me do it. 

They hate the King, and Lancelot, the King's friend, 

They hoped to slay him somewhere on the stream, 
1385 They never dream'd the passes could be past." 

Then sprang the happier day from under-ground; 
And Lady Lyonors and her house, with dance 
And revel and song, made merry over Death, 
As being after all their foolish fears 
1390 And horrors only prov'n a blooming boy. 

So large mirth lived, and Gareth won the quest. 

And he that told the tale in older times 
Says that Sir Gareth wedded Lyonors, 
But he, that told it later, says Lynette.' 

1 " He that told the tale iu older times " Gareth had really fought for Lynette, and 
is Malory (p. 9). But Tennyson feels that that it is Lynette whom he should win. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

Elaine the fair, Elaine the lovable, 

Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat, 

High in her chamber up a tower to the east 

Guarded the sacred ' shield of Lancelot; 
5 Which first she placed where morning's earliest ray 

Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam; 

Then, fearing rust or soilure,' fashion'd for it 

A case of silk, and braided ^ thereupon 

All the devices blazon'd * on the shield 
10 In their own tinct, and added, of her wit,* 

A border fantasy" of branch and flower. 

And yellow- throated nestling in the nest. 

Nor rested thus content, but day by day. 

Leaving her household and good father, climb'd 
15 That eastern tower, and, entering, barr'd her door, 

Stript off the case, and read the naked shield, 

Now gaess'd a hidden meaning in his arms. 

Now made a pretty history to herself 

Of every dint a sword had beaten in it, 
20 And every scratch a lance had made upon it. 

Conjecturing when and where; this cut is fresh; 

That ten years back; this dealt him at Cserlyle; 

That at Cserleon; this at Camelot: ^ 

And ah, God's mercy, what a stroke was there! 
25 And here a thrust that might have kilPd, but God 

Broke the strong lance, and roll'd his enemy down. 

And saved him: so she lived in fantasy. 

1 in her thoughts. "^ an archaic word. ^ embroidered. 

* The device was, in heraldry, the especial figure belonging to a knight or family. For 
blazon, see Gareth and Lyiiette, 1. 405. ^ out cf her head ; for ^vit see 1. 147. 

• the chief towns where Arthur held court, and, therefore, tournaments. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 61 

How came the lily maid by that good shield 
Of Lancelot, she that knew not ev'n his name ? ' 
30 He left it with her when he rode to tilt 

For the great diamond in the diamond jousts 
Which Arthur had ordain'd, and by that name 
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize. 

For Arthur, long before they crown'd him king, 

35 Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse,' 

Had found a glen, gray boulder, and black tarn.^ 
A horror lived about the tarn, and clave* 
Like its own mists to all the mountain side: 
For here two brothers, onie a king, had met, 

40 And fought together; but their names were lost. 
And each had slain his brother at a blow. 
And down they fell and made the glen abhorr'd : 
And there they lay till all their bones were bleach'd. 
And lichen'd into color with the crags: ^ 

45 And he that once was king had on a crown 
Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside. 
And Arthur came, and laboring up the pass 
All in a misty moonshine, unawares 
Had trodden that crown'd skeleton, and the skull 

50 Brake from the nape, and from the skull the crown 
Roll'd into light, and, turning on its rims. 
Fled like a glittering rivulet to the tarn: ' 
And down the shingly scaur ^ he plunged, and caught. 
And set it on his head, and in his heart 

55 Heard murmurs, ^' Lo, thou likewise shalt be king." 

1 The poem has begun with the chief figure; it now goes back a long way in time, and 
does not reach the point of beginning until 1. 395. 

2 An ancient land beyond Cornwall, according to the legend, now buried deep beneath 
the sea; see The Passing of Arthur, 11. 81-87. 

* a deep pool. * an archaic preterite. 

* The lichen grew over them, and they became of one color with the rocks. 
« Note the rapidity of the line. 

^ Shingle is the English name for a pebbly beach ; a scaur is a bare, steep bank. 



52 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

Thereafter, when a king, he had the gems 
Pluck'd from the crown, and show'd them to his knights. 
Saying, " These jewels, whereupon I chanced 
Divinely,^ are the kingdom's, not the King's — 

60 For public use: henceforward let there be. 
Once every year, a joust for one of these: 
For so by nine years' proof we needs must learn 
Which is our mightiest, and ourselves" shall grow 
In use of arms and manhood, till we drive 

65 The heathen," who, some say, shall rule the land 
Hereafter, which Grod hinder." Thus he spoke: 
And eight years past, eight jousts had been, and still * 
Had Lancelot won the diamond of the year, 
"With purpose to present them to the Queen 

70 When all were won; but, meaning all at once 
To snare her royal fancy with a boon 
Worth half her realm, had never spoken word. 

Now for the central diamond and the last 
And largest, Arthur, holding then his court 

75 Hard on the river nigh the place which now 
Is this world's hugest,^ let® proclaim a joust 
x\t Camelot, and when the time drew nigh 
Spake (for she had been sick) to Guinevere, 
^' Are you so sick, my Queen, you can not move ' 

80 To these fair jousts?" "Yea, lord,'' she said, "ye know it." 
" Then will ye miss," he answer'd, '^ the great deeds 
Of Lancelot, and his prowess in the lists, 
A sight ye love to look on." And the Queen 
Lifted her eyes, and they dwelt languidly 

85 On Lancelot, where he stood beside the King. 

1 by divine guidance. 

2 The use of a reflexive, as though a subject comes from the omission of the true subject. 

3 The Anglo-Saxons, who followed the Celts in England, were at first heathen. 

* in the old meaning of " always. " ^ London. 

• Let with a verb is an archaic idiom. ' to go to Camelot. 



LANCELOT; ANT) ELAINE. 53 

He, thinking that he read her meaning there, 
*' Stay with me, I am sick; my love is more 
Than many diamonds," yielded; and a heart. 
Love-loyal to the least wish of the Queen 

90 (However much he yearn'd to make complete 
The tale' of diamonds for his destined boon). 
Urged him to sjoeak against the truth, and say, 
" Sir King, mine ancient wound is hardly whole, 
And lets^ me from the saddle; " and the King 

95 Glanced first at him, then her, and went his way. 
No sooner gone than suddenly she began: 

*' To blame, my lord Sir Lancelot, much to blame! 
Why go ye not to these fair jousts ? the knights 
Are half of them our enemies,^ and the crowd 

100 Will murmur, ' Lo, the shameless ones, who take 
Their pastime now the trustful King is gone! ' " 
Then Lancelot, vexed at having lied in vain: 
'* Are ye so wise ? ye were not once so wise. 
My Queen, that summer, when ye loved me first. 

105 Then of the crowd " ye took no more account 
Than of the myriad cricket of the mead. 
When its own voice clings to each blade of grass. 
And every voice is nothing. As to knights. 
Them surely can I silence with all ease. 

110 But now my loyal worship is allow'd "" 

Of all men: many a bard, without offence. 
Has link'd our names together in his lay, 
Lancelot, the flower of bravery, Guinevere, 
The pearl of beauty: and our knights at feast 

1 The fall number, 

2 hinders ; the word anciently seems to have had two contrary meanings, probably 
distinguished by context or gesture. 

' A party had sprung up in the court, opposed to the Queen because they opposed the 
King, and to Lancelot because he was so constantly successful. 
* of other people and what they said. ' recognized. 



54 LANCELOT ANfi ELAINE. 

115 Have pledged us in this union, while the king 

Would listen smiling. How then ? is there more ? 
Has Arthur spoken aught ? or would yourself, 
Now weary of my service and devoir/ 
Henceforth be truer to your faultless lord ? " 

120 She broke into a little scornful laugh. 

"Arthur, my lord, Arthur, the faultless King, 
That passionate perfection, my good lord — ' 
But who can gaze upon the sun in heaven ? ' 
He never spake word of reproach to me, 

125 He never had a glimpse of mine untruth, 
He cares not for me: only here to-day 
There gleam'd a vague suspicion in his eyes: 
Some meddling rogue has tamper'd with him — else 
Eapt in this fancy of his Table Round, 

130 And swearing men to vows impossible, 

To make them like himself: but, friend, to me 
He is all fault who hath no fault at all: 
For who* loves me must have a touch of earth; 
The low sun makes the color: ^ I am yours, 

135 Not Arthur's, as ye know, save by the bond. 

And therefore hear my words: go to the jousts: 
The tiny-trumpeting gnat can break our dream 
When sweetest; and the vermin voices here 
'May buzz so loud — we scorn them, but they sting.'' 

140 Then answer'd. Lancelot, the chief of knights: 
" And with what face, after my pretext made. 
Shall I appear, Queen, at Camelot, I 
Before a king who honors his own word. 
As if it were his God's ? " 

1 The old word for knightly duty. 

2 Guinevere, who has ceased to love the King, falls into the idea of lower souls that one 
can be too good; so good as to be stupid; that, as in 1. 134, one must be bad to be inter- 
esting. 3 She breaks off into a figure. * common in older English for "whoever." 

" The figure is true to nature, as any sunset will show. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 55 

" Yea," said the Queen, 
145 *' A moral child ' without the craft to rule. 
Else had he not lost me: but listen to me. 
If I must find you wit: ^ we hear it said 
That men go down before your spear at a touch 
But' knowing you are Lancelot; your great name, 
150 This conquers: hide it, therefore; go unknown: 
Win! by this kiss you will: and our true King 
Will then allow* your pretext, my knight. 
As all for glory; for, to speak him true. 
Ye know right well, how meek soe'er he seem, 
155 No keener hunter after glory breathes. 

He loves it in his knights more than himself: 
They prove to him his work: win and return." 

Then got Sir Lancelot suddenly to horse, 

Wroth at himself: not willing to be known, 
IGO He left the barren-beaten thoroughfare. 

Chose the green path that show'd the rarer foot. 

And there among the solitary downs, ^ 

Full often lost in fancy, lost his way; 

Till, as he traced a faintly-shadow'd track, 
1G5 That all in loops and links among the dales 

Ran to the Castle of Astolat, he saw 

Fired from the west, far on a hill, the towers. 

Tliither he made, and wound the gateway horn. 

Then came an old, dumb, myriad-wrinkled man, 
170 Who let him into lodging," and disarm'd. 

And Lancelot marvel'd at the wordless man; 

And, issuing, found the Lord of Astolat 

With two strong sons. Sir Torre and Sir Lavaine, 

> He certainly did have the simplicity and directness of a child. 
2 as in 1. 10. 3 only. * as in 1. 110. 

* bare, rounded hills ; cf . 1. 398. 

» He was received into the castle as a matter of course, for free hospitality was one of 
the necessities of the time, and was afterward presented to his host. 



66 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

Movmg to meet him in the castle court; 

175 And close behind them stept the lily maid, 
Elaine, his daughter: mother of the house 
There was not : some light jest among them rose 
With laughter dying down as the great knight 
Approach'd them: then the Lord of Astolat: 

180 " Whence comest thou, my guest, and by what name 
Livest between the lips? for, by thy state 
And presence, I might guess thee chief of those, 
After the King, who eat in Arthur's halls. 
Him have I seen: the rest, his Table Round, 

185 Known as they are, to me they are unknown." ' 

Then answer'd Lancelot, the chief of knights: 
*' Known am I, and of Arthur's hall, and known 
What I by mere mischance have brought, my shield. 
But, since I go to joust, as one unknown, 
190 At Camelot for the diamond, ask me not. 

Hereafter you shall know me — and the shield — ' 
I pray you lend me one, if such you have. 
Blank, or at least with some device not mine." 

Then said the Lord of Astolat, " Here is Torre's: 
195 Hurt in his first tilt was my son. Sir Torre, 
And so, God wot, his shield is blank enough.^ 
His ye can have." Then added plain Sir Torre, 
*' Yea, since I cannot use it, ye may have it." 
Here laugh'd the father saying, '' Fie, Sir Churl, 
200 Is that an answer for a noble knight ? 

Allow him : * but Lavaine, my younger here. 

He is so full of lustihood, he will ride. 

Joust for it, and win, and bring it in an hour, 

' This speech has something of the epic sententiousness of Homer, especially in 11. 181, 
185. ' He would have been known by his shield ; cf. Gareth and Lynette, 1. 1267. 
' The device on a knight's shield often referred to feats he had himself performed. 
* A half apology to Lancelot. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 67 

And set it in this damsel's golden hair, 
205 To make her thrice as wilful as before." 

'' Nay, father, nay, good father, shame me not 
Before this noble knight, '^ said young Lavaine, 
'' For nothing. Surely I but play'd on Torre: 
He seem'd so sullen, vext he could not go: 

210 A jest,^ no more: for, knight, the maiden dreamt 
That some one put this diamond' in her hand. 
And that it was too slippery to be held. 
And slipt, and fell into some pool or stream. 
The castle-well, belike; and then I said 

215 That if I went, and if I fought and won it 
(But all was jest and joke among ourselves). 
Then must she keep it safelier. All was jest. 
But, father, give me leave, an if he' will, 
To ride to Camelot with this noble knight: 

220 Win shall I not, but do my best to win: 
Young as I am, yet would I do my best." 

** So" ye will grace me," answer'd Lancelot, 
Smiling a moment, '* with your fellowship 
O'er these waste downs whereon I lost myself, 

225 Then were I glad of you as guide and friend; 
And you shall win this diamond — as I hear. 
It is a fair large diamond, — if ye may; ^ 
Ancl yield it to this maiden, if ye will." 
''A fair, large diamond," added plain Sir Torre, 

230 *^ Such be for queens and not for simple maids." ° 
Then she, who held her e3^es upon the ground, 
Elaine, and heard her name so tost about, 
Flush'd slightly at the slight disparagement 

1 This was the jest of 1. 177. 

2 Here, as in 1. 230, there is a hint at Lancelot himself, under the mention of the 
diamond. ^ Lancelot. * if. *> The modern use would be can 

« This is the poet's irony ; Torre does not know how near he hits the mark. 



58 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

Before the stranger knight, who, looking at her 

235 Full courtly, yet not falsely, thus return'd : 
*' If what is fair be but for what is fair. 
And only queens are to be counted so, 
Eash were my judgment, then, who deem this maid 
Might wear as fair a jewel as is on earth, 

240 Not violating the bond of like to like." 

He spoke and ceased : the lily maid Elaine, 
Won by the mellow voice before she look'd. 
Lifted her eyes, and read his lineaments. 
The great and guilty love he bare the Queen, 

245 In battle with the love he bare his lord. 

Had marr'd his face, and mark'd it ere his time. 
Another^ sinning on such heights with one. 
The flower of all the west and all the world. 
Had been the sleeker for it: but in him 

250 His mood was often like a fiend, and rose 
And drove him into wastes and solitudes 
For agony, who was yet a living soul.' 
Marr'd as he was, he seem'd the goodliest man 
That ever among ladies ate in hall, 

255 And noblest, when she lifted up her eyes. 

However marr'd, of more than twice her years, 
Seam'd with an ancient swordcut on the cheek. 
And bruised and bronzed, she lifted up her eyes 
And loved him, with that love which was her doom. 

260 Then the great knight, the darling of the court. 
Loved of the loveliest, into that rude hall 
Stept with all grace, and not with half-disdain 
Hid under grace, as in a smaller time,' 
But kindly man moving among his kind: 

i A man of less nobility of nature. ^ The idea of right was not dead in him. 

8 In an age less noble, where people cared more for show and observance than for real 
worth. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 59 

265 Whom they with meats and vintage of their best, 
And talk and minstrel melody entertain'd. 
And much they ask'd of court and Table Round, 
And ever well and readily answer'd he: 
But Lancelot, when they glanced at Guinevere, 

270 Suddenly speaking of the wordless man ' 

Heard from the baron that, ten years before. 
The heathen caught, and reft him of his tongue. 
"He learnt and warn'd me of their fierce design 
Against my house, and him they caught and maim'd; 

275 But I, my sons, and little daughter fled 

From bonds or death, and dwelt among the woods 
By the great river in a boatman's hut. 
Dull days were those, till our good Arthur broke 
The Pagan yet once more on Badon hill.' 

280 " Oh, there, great lord, doubtless," Lavaine said, rapt * 
By all the sweet and sudden passion of youth 
Toward greatness in its elder, " you have fought. 
Oh, tell us — for we live apart — you know 
Of Arthur's glorious wars." And Lancelot spoke 

285 And answer'd him at full, as having been 
With Arthur in the fight which all day long 
Rang by the white mouth of the violent Glem;* 
And in the four wild battles by the shore 
Of Duglas; that on Bassa; then the war 

290 That thunder'd in and out the gloomy skirts 
Of Celidon the forest; and again 
By castle Gurnion, where the glorious King 

1 He changed the subject. 

2 The legend was that Arthur conquered the Saxons in twelve great battles. Of these 
that of Badon Hill was the last and grcatcKt, as in 11. 301-307. The others are named in 
Lancelot's relation. The earliest mention of these 1)attle8 is found in the account of 
Arthur given by Nennius, a historian of the ninth century, in whose work fact and fiction 
can be separated only by great labor. ^ peizoil and absorbed. 

* The names come from Nennius, but arc far beyond our identification. Tennyson 
however, gives each its character. 



60 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

Had on liis cuirass worn our Lady's Head, 
Carved on one emerald, centered in a sun 

295 Of silver rays, that lightened as he breathed; 
And at Caerleon had he help'd his lord, 
When the strong neighings of the wild White Horse 
Set every gilded parapet shuddering; 
And up in Agned-Cathregonion too, 

300 And down the waste sand-shores of Trath Treroit, 
Where many a heathen fell; '' And on the mount 
Of Badon I myself beheld the King 
Charge at the head of all his Table Round, 
And all his legions crying Christ and him,* 

305 And break them; and I saw him, after, stand 
High on a heap of slain, from spur to plume 
Red as the rising sun with heathen blood. 
And, seeing me, with a great voice he cried, 
^ They are broken, they are broken,' for the King, 

310 However mild he seems at home, nor cares 
For triumph in our mimic wars, the jousts — 
For, if his own knight cast him down, he laughs. 
Saying his knights are better men than he — 
Yet in this heathen war the fire of God 

315 Fills him: I never saw his like: there lives 
No greater leader." 

While he utter'd this. 
Low to her own heart said the lily maid, 
'' Save your great self, fair lord; " and, when he fell 
From talk of war to traits of pleasantry — 
320 Being mirthful he but in a stately kind, — 
She still took note that when the living smile 
Died from his lips-, across him came a cloud 
Of melancholy severe, from which again, 

1 The standard of the Saxons. 

a The knights shouted the names of Christ and of the King as a war cry. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 61 

Whenever, iu ber hovering to and fro, 

325 The lily maid had striven to make him cheer. 
There brake a sudden-beaming tenderness 
Of manners and of nature: and she thought 
Tliat all was nature,' all, perchance, for her. 
And all night long his face before her lived. 

330 As when a painter," poring on a face. 

Divinely thro' all hindrance finds the man 
Behind it, and so paints him that his face. 
The shape and color of a mind and life. 
Lives for his children, ever at its best 

335 And fullest; so the face before her lived, 
Dark-splendid, speaking in the silence, full 
Of noble things, and held her from her sleep. 
Till rathe" she rose, half-cheated* in the thought 
She needs must bid farewell to sweet Lavaine. 

340 First as in fear, step after step, she stole 
Down the long tower-stairs, hesitating: 
Anon, she heard Sir Lancelot cry in the court, 
" This shield, my friend, where is it? '' and Lavaine 
Past inward, as she came from out the tower. 

345 There to his proud horse Lancelot turn'd, and smooth'd 
The glossy shoulder, humming to himself. 
Half-envious of the flattering hand, she drew 
Nearer and stood. He look'd, and more amazed 
Than if seven men had set upon him, saw 

350 The maiden standing in the dewy light. 
He had not dreamed she was so beautiful. 
Then came on him a sort of sacred fear, 
For silent, tho' he greeted her, she stood 
Rapt ' on his face as if it were a god's. 

' She could not know the true causes.of Lancelot's emotions. 

2 This figure is worth thinking over ; it is fine in itself, and also expresses more fully 
the thought of Elaine. ' early ; the old word of which rather is the comparative. 

* She really wished to see Lancelot, but would hardly acknowledge it to herself, 
» Cf. 1. 280. 



62 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

355 Suddenly flash'd on her a wild desire 

That he should wear her favor ^ at the tilt. 
She braved a riotous heart in asking for it. 
" Fair lord, whose name I kno»v not — noble it is, 
I well believe, the noblest — will you wear 

360 My favor at this tonrney ? " '' Nay," said he, 
" Fair lady, since I never yet have worn 
Favor of any lady in the lists. 
Such is my wont, as those who know me know." 
^' Yea, so," she answer'd; "' then in wearing mine 

365 Xeeds must be lesser likelihood, noble lord. 

That those who know should know you." And he turn'd 
Her counsel up and down within his mind, 
And found it true,' and answer'd, " True, my child. 
Well, I will wear it: fetch it out to me: 

370 AVhat is it ? " and she told him, ''A red sleeve 

Broider'd with pearls," and brought it: then he bound 
Her token on his helmet, with a smile 
Saying, '* I never yet have done so much 
For any maiden living," and the blood 

375 Sprang to her face and filFd her with delight; 
But left her all the paler, when Lavaine, 
Returning, brought the yet-unblazon'd shield, 
His brother's; which he gave to Lancelot, 
Who parted with, his own to fair Elaine; 

380 ^' Do me this grace, my child, to have my shield 
In keeping till I come." '^ A grace to me," 
She answer'd, " twice to-day. I am your Squire." 
Whereat Lavaine said, laughing, " Lily maid. 
For fear our people call you lily maid 

385 In earnest, let me bring your color back; 

Once, twice, and thrice: now get you hence to bed: " 

1 Something she should give him. 

2 He forgot that his remaining unrecognized was but a pretext. His wearing the sleeve 
brought about trouble. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 63 

So kiss'd her, and Sir Lancelot his hand. 

And thus thej moved away; she stay'd a minute, 

Then made a sudden step to the gate, and there — 

Her bright hair blown about the serious face 

Yet rosy-kindled with her brother's kiss — 

Paused in the gateway, standing by the shield 

In silence, while she watch'd their arms far-off 

Sparkle, until they dipt below the downs. 

Then to her tower she climb'd, and took the shield. 

There kept it, and so lived in fantasy. 

Meanwhile the two companions past away 
Far o'er the long backs of the bushless downs. 
To where Sir Lancelot knew there lived a knight 
Not far from Camelot, now for forty years 
A hermit, who had pray'd, labor 'd, and pray'd, 
And, ever laboring, had scoop'd himself. 
In the white rock, a chapel and a hall 
On massive columns, like a shorecliff cave. 
And cells and chambers: all were fair and dry; 
The green light from the meadows underneath 
Struck up and lived along the milky roofs; 
And in the meadows tremulous aspen-trees 
And poplars made a noise of falling showers.' 
And, thither wending, there that night they bode. 

But when the next day broke from underground,' 
And shot red fire and shadows thro' the cave. 
They rose, heard mass, broke fast, and rode away: 
Then Lancelot, saying, " Hear, but liold my name 
Hidden, you ride with Lancelot of tlie Lake," 
Abash'd Lavaine, whose instant reverence. 
Dearer to true young hearts than their own praise, 

1 The leaves of the poplar rustle with the sound of light raiu. 

2 Cf. Gareth and Lijnette, 1. \ms. 



64 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

But left him leave to stammer, *' Is it indeed ? " 
And after muttering, " The great Lancelot,'' 

420 At last he got his breath and ansvver'd, " One,' 
One have I seen — that other, our liege lord. 
The dread Pen dragon, Britain's King of kings. 
Of whom the people talk mysteriously. 
He will be there — then, were I stricken blind 

425 That minute, I might say that I had seen.'"' 

So spake Lavaine, and, when they reached the lists 
By Camelot in the meadow, let his eyes 
llun thro' the peopled gallery, which half round 
Lay like a rainbow' fall'n upon the grass, 

430 Until they found the clear-faced King, who sat 
Robed in red samite,* easily to be known. 
Since to his crown the golden dragon clung. 
And down his robe the dragon writhed in gold. 
And from the carven-work behind him crept 

435 Two dragons gilded, sloping down to make 
Arms for his chair, while all the rest of them 
Thro' knots and loops and folds innumerable 
Fled ever thro' the Avoodwork, till they found 
The new design wherein they lost themselves, 

440 Yet with all ease, so tender was the work: 
And, in the costly canopy o'er him set. 
Blazed the last diamond of the nameless king. 
Then Lancelot answer'd young Lavaine and said, 
" Me you call great: mine is the firmer seat, 

445 The truer lance: but there is many a youth, 
Now crescent,* who will come to all I am 
And overcome it; and in me there dwells \ 
No greatness, save it be some f ar-oif touch \ 
Of greatness to know well I am not great: 

> One of the two he most honored. ^ i. e., the greatest things nnd most worth seeing. 
■ ' The bright dresses of the ladies. * a heavy silk. 

» Cf. Gareih ami Lynetfe, 1. 519. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 65 

450 There is the man." And Lavaine gaped upon him 
As on a thing miraculous, and anon 
The trumpets blew; and then did either side, 
They that assail'd, and they that held the lists,* 
Set lance in rest, strike spur, suddenly move, 

455 Meet in the midst, and there so furiously 

Shock, that a man far-off might well perceive. 
If any man that day were left afield. 
The hard earth shake, and a low thunder of arms. 
And Lancelot bode a little,'' till he saw 

460 Which were the weaker; then he hurl'd into it 
Against the stronger: little need to speak 
Of Lancelot in his glory! King, duke, earl. 
Count, baron — whom he smote he overthrew. 

But in the field were Lancelot's kith and kin, 
4G5 Ranged with the Table Round that held the lists, ^ 

Strong men, and wrathful that a stranger knight 

Should do and almost overdo the deeds 

Of Lancelot; and one said to the other, '^ Lo! 

What is he ? I do not mean the force alone — 
470 The grace and versatility of the man. 

Is it not Lancelot ? " '^ When has Lancelot worn 

Favor of any lady in the lists ? * 

Not such his wont, as we, who know him, know." 

" How then ? who then ? " a fury seized them all, 
475 A fiery family passion for the name 

Of Lancelot, and a glory one with theirs. 

They couch 'd their spears and prick'd their steeds and 
thus. 

Their plumes driv'n backward by the wind they made 

> It was the custom for certain knights to challenge all comers ; they were said to 
hold the lists. 
" He waiteti awhile to see which side to take. 

5 The knights of the court held the lists ; the assailants were outsiders, 11. 524, 526. 
« The argument of Elaine was all too good. 

5 



6d LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

In moving, all together down upon him 
480 Bare, as a wild wave in the wide North-sea,' 

Green-glimmering toward the summit, bears, with all 
Its stormy crests that smoke against the skies, 
Down on a bark, and overbears the bark. 
And him that helms it, so they overbore 
485 Sir Lancelot and his charger, and a spear, 

Down-glancing, lamed the charger, and a spear, 
Prick'd sharply his own cuirass, and the head 
Pierced thro' his side and there snapt and remained. 

Then Sir Lavaine did well and worshipfully;" 

490 He bore a knight of old repute to the earth. 

And brought his horse to Lancelot where he lay. 
He up the side, sweating with agony, got. 
But thought to do ^ while he might yet endure. 
And, being lustily holpen * by the rest, 

495 His party, — tho' it seemed half-miracle 

To those he fought with — drave his kith and kin. 
And all the Table Eound that held the lists. 
Back to the barrier; then the trumpets blew 
Proclaiming his the prize who wore the sleeve 

500 Of scarlet, and the pearls; and all the knights. 
His party, cried, '* Advance, and take thy prize. 
The diamond; '' but he answer 'd, *' Diamond me 
No diamonds! for God's love, a little air! 
Prize me no prizes, for my prize is death! 

505 Hence will I, and, I charge you, follow me not." 

He spoke, and vanish 'd suddenly from the field 
With young Lavaine into the. poplar grove. 
There from his charger, down he slid, and sat, 
Gasping to Sir Lavaine, " Draw the lance-head: " 

1 A fine figure full of fire and motion. ^ a common word in the romances. 

3 to act ; to do an act of prowess. 

♦ an archaic inflection, like drave just below. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 67 

510 '* Ah, my sweet lord Sir Lancelot," said Lavaine, 
" I dread me, if I draw it, ye shall die." 
But he, *' I die already with it: draw — 
Draw," — and Lavaine drew, and that other gave 
A marvelous great shriek and ghastly groan, 

516 And half his blood burst forth, and down he sank 
For the pure pain, and wholly swoon'd away. 
Then came the hermit out and bare him in, 
There stanch'd his wound; and there, in daily doubt 
Whether to live or die, for many a week, 

520 Hid from the wide world's rumor by the grove 
Of poplars, with their noise of falling showers. 
And ever-tremulous aspen-trees, he lay. 

But on that day when Lancelot fled the lists. 
His party, knights of utmost North and West, 

525 Lords of waste marches, kings of desolate isles. 

Came round their great Pendragon, saying to him, 
** Lo, Sire, our knight thro' whom we won the day 
Hath gone sore wounded, and hath left his prize 
Untaken, crying that his prize is death." 

530 " Heaven hinder," said the King, ** that such an one. 
So great a knight as we have seen to-day — 
He seemed to me another Lancelot, 
Yea, twenty times I thought him Lancelot — 
He must not pass uncared for. Wherefore, rise, 

535 Gawain, and ride forth and find the knight. 
Wounded and wearied, needs must he be near. 
I charge you that you get at once to horse. 
And, knights and kings, there breathes not one of you 
Will deem this prize of ours is rashly given: 

540 His prowess was too wondrous. We will do him 
Xo customary honor: since the knight 
Came not to us, of us to claim the prize. 
Ourselves will send it after. Rise and take 



68 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

This diamond and deliver it and return 
545 And bring us where he is and how he fares, 

And cease not from your quest until yon find." 

So raying, from the carven flower above/ 
To which it made a restless heart, he took. 
And gave, the diamond: then, from where he sat, 

550 At Arthur's right, with smiling face arose, 

With smiling face and frowning heart, a prince 
In the mid might and flourish of his May, 
Gawain,^ surnamed the Courteous, fair and strong. 
And after Lancelot, Tristram,^ and Geraint,* 

555 And Gareth, a good knight, but therewithal 
Sir Modred's ^ brother, of a crafty house, 
Nor often loyal to his word, and now 
Wroth that the king's command to sally forth 
In quest of whom he knew not made him leave 

560 The banquet, and concourse of knights and kings. 

So all in wrath he got to horse and went; 
While Arthur to the banquet, dark in mood. 
Past, thinking, *' Is it Lancelot who has come. 
Despite the wound he spake of, all for gain 

565 Of glory, and has added wound to wound. 

And ridd'n away to die ? '' So fear'd the King, 
And, after two days' tarriance there, return'd." 
'Then, when he saw the Queen, embracing, ask'd, 
" Love, are you yet so sick ? " " Nay, lord," she said. 

570 *' And where is Lancelot?" Then the Queen, amazed. 



1 Cf. 1. 441. ^ Of. Gareth md Lynette, 1. 25. 

3 We do not hear much of Tristram in the Idylls here selected. He is the chief figure in 
The Last Tournament. 
* Geraint is the hero of the earlier Idyll Enid, now divided into two. 
s Cf. Gareth and Lynette, 1. 409. 
« To London, where Guinevere had remained. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 69 

" Was he not with you ? Avon he not your prize ? '' 
" Nay, but one like him." '' Why that like was he." 
And when the King demanded how she knew, 
Said, " Lord, no sooner had ye parted from us, 

575 Than Lancelot told me of a common talk 

That men went down before his spear at a touch 
But knowing he was Lancelot; his great name 
Conquer'd: and therefore would he hide his name 
From all men, ev'n the King, and to this end 

580 Had made the pretext of a hindering wound 

That he might joust unknown of all, and learn 
If his old prowess were in aught decay'd : 
And added, ' Our true Arthur, when he learns. 
Will well allow my pretext, as for gain 

585 Of purer glory.' " 



Then replied the King, 
** Far lovelier in our Lancelot had it been. 
In lieu of idly dallying with the truth. 
To have trusted me as he hath trusted you. 
Surely his King and most familiar friend 
Might well have kept his secret. True, indeed. 
Albeit I know my knights fantastical. 
So fine a fear in our large Lancelot 
Must needs have moved my laughter: now remains 
But little cause for laughter: his own kin — 
111 news, my Queen, for all who love him, this! — 
His kith and kin, not knowing, set upon him; 
So that he went sore wounded from the field: 
Yet good news too: for goodly hopes are mine 
That Lancelot is no more a lonely heart. 
He wore, against his wont, upon his helm 
A sleeve of scarlet, broider'd with great pearls. 
Some gentle maiden's gift." 



70 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

"Yea, lord," slie said, 
" Your hopes are mine," ' and, saying that, slie choked. 
And sharply turn'd about to hide her face, 

605 Past to her chamber, and there flung herself 

Down on the great King's couch, and writhed upon it, 
And clench'd her fingers till they bit the palm. 
And shriek'd out " Traitor" to the unhearing wall, 
Then flash'd into wild tears, and rose again, 

610 And moved about her palace, proud and pale. 

Gawain the while'' thro' all the region round 
Eode with his diamond, wearied of the quest, 
Touch'd at all points, except the poplar grove. 
And came at last, tho' late, to Astolat. 

615 Whom, glittering in enamel'd arms, the maid 

Glanced at, and cried, " What news from Camelot, lord ? 
What of the knight with the red sleeve ? " " He won." 
" I knew it," she said. *' But parted from the jousts 
Hurt in the side," whereat she caught her breath; 

620 Thro' her own side she felt the sharp lance go; 

Thereon she smote her hand: well-nigh she swoon'd; 
And, while he gazed wonderingly at her, came 
The lord of Astolat out, to whom the Prince 
Reported who he was, and on what quest 

625 Sent, that he bore the prize and could not find 
The victor, but had ridden wildly round 
To seek him, and was wearied of the search. 
To whom the lord of Astolat,^ '*' Bide with us. 
And ride no longer wildly, noble Prince! 

630 Here was the knight, and here he left a shield; 
This will he send or come for: furthermore 
Our son is with him: we shall hear anon, 
Needs must we hear." To this the courteous Prince 

1 She spoke shortly, for the words threw her into a passion of jealousy. 
3 meanwhile. ^ The verb of speaking is omitted, as in 1. 179. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 71 

Accorded with his wonted courtesy, — ' 

635 Courtesy with a touch of traitor in it. 

And stay'd; and cast his eyes on fair Elaine: 
Where could be found face daintier ? then her shape, — 
From forehead down to foot, perfect — again 
From foot to forehead exquisitely turn'd: 

640 " Well— if I bide, lo! this wild flower for me! " 
And oft they met among the garden yews. 
And there he set himself to play upon her 
With sallying wit, free flashes from a height 
Above her, graces of the court, and songs, 

645 Sighs, and slow smiles, and golden eloquence. 
And amorous adulation, till the maid 
Eebell'd against it, saying to him, " Prince, 
loyal nephew of our noble King, 
Why ask you not to see the shield he left, 

650 Whence you might learn his name ? Why slight your 
King, 
And lose the quest he sent you on, and prove 
No surer than our falcon yesterday. 
Who lost the hern we slipt him at, and went 
To all the winds ? ^' " Nay, by mine head," said he, 

655 '^ I lose it, as we lose the lark in heaven, 
damsel, in the light of your blue eyes : 
But, an ye will it, let me see the shield." 
And when the shield was brought, and Gawain saw 
Sir Lancelot's azure lions, crown'd with gold, 

660 Ramp' in the field, he smote his thigh, and mock'd; 
'' Right was the King! our Lancelot! that true man! " 
** And right was I," she answer'd merrily, " I, 
Who dream'd my knight the greatest knight of all." 
" And if /dream'd," said Gawain, '* that you love 

1 Gawain was reputed among all the knights the master of courtesy. 

2 The obsolete verb from which came ramj)ant, the proper heraldic term for standing 
on the hind legs. 



72 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

665 This greatest knight, your pardon ! lo, you know it! 
Speak therefore: shall I waste myself in vain ? " 
Full simple was her answer, " What know I? 
My brethren have been all my fellowship/ 
And I, when often they have talk'd of love, 

670 Wish'd it had been my mother, for they talked, 
Meseem'd, of what they knew not; so myself — 
I know not if I know what true love is. 
But, if I know, then, if I love not him, 
Methinks there is none other I can love.'' 

675 *' Yea, by God's death," said he, *' ye love him well. 
But would not, knew ye what all others know. 
And whom he loves." " So be it," cried Elaine, 
And lifted her fair face and moved away: * 
But he pursued her, calling, *' Stay a little! 

680 One golden minute's grace: he wore your sleeve: 
Would he break faith with one I may not name ? 
Must our true man change like a leaf at last ? 
Nay — like enough : why then, far be it from me 
To cross our mighty Lancelot in his loves! ' 

685 And, damsel, for I deem you know full well 

Where your great knight is hidden, let me leave 
My quest with you; the diamond also: here! 
For, if you love, it will be sweet to give it; 
And, if he loves, it will be sweet to have it 

690 From your own hand; and, whether he love or not, 
A diamond is a diamond. Fare you well 
A thousand times! — a thousand times farewell! 
Yet, if he love, and his love hold, we two 
May meet at court hereafter: there, I think, 

695 So you will learn the courtesies of the court. 
We two shall know each other." 

Then he gave. 
And slightly kissed the hand to which he gave, 

» My only companions. 2 jje assumes that the sleeve was a true-love token. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 73 

The diamond, and, all wearied of the quest. 
Leapt on his horse, and, caroling, as he went, 
700 A true-love ballad, lightly rode away. 

Thence to the court he past; there told the King 
What the King knew, '' Sir Lancelot is the knight." 
And added, ^' Sire, my liege, so much I learnt; 
But faird to find him tho' I rode all round 
705 The region : but I lighted on the maid 

Whose sleeve he wore; she loves him; and to her, 

Deeming our courtesy is the truest law, 

I gave the diamond: she will render it; 

For, by mine head, she knows his hiding-place." 

710 The seldom-frowning King frown'd, and replied, 
*' Too courteous truly! ye shall go no more 
On quest of mine, seeing that ye forget 
Obedience is the courtesy due to kings." 

He spake and parted. Wroth, but all in awe, 
715 For twenty strokes of the blood, without a word, 
Linger'd that other, staring after him; 
Then shook his hair, strode off, and buzz'd abroad ' 
About the maid of Astolat and her love. 
All ears were prick'd at once, all tongues were loosed : 
720 " The maid of Astolat loves Sir Lancelot, 
Sir Lancelot loves the maid of Astolat." 
Some read the King's face, some the Queen's, and all 
Had marvel what the maid might be; but most 
Predoom'd " her as unworthy. One old dame 
725 Came suddenly on the Queen with the sharp news. 
She, that had heard the noise of it before, 
But sorrowing Lancelot should have stoop'd so low, 
Marr'd her friend's point with pale tranquillity. 

1 began telling everybody. » prejudged. 



74 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

So ran the tale, like fire about the court, 

730 Fire in dry stubble a nine days' wonder flared: 
Till ev'n the knights at banquet twice or thrice 
Forgot to drink to Lancelot and the Queen ; 
And, pledging Lancelot and the lily maid. 
Smiled at each other, while the Queen, who sat 

735 With lips severely placid, felt the knot 

Climb in her throat, and with her feet unseen 
Crush'd the wild passion out against the floor 
Beneath the banquet, where the meats became 
As wormwood, and she hated all who pledged. 
\ 

740 But far away the maid in Astolat, 
Her guiltless rival, she that ever kept 
The one-day-seen Sir Lancelot in her heart. 
Crept to her father, while he mused alone. 
Sat on his knee, stroked his gray face and said, 

745 '' Father, you call me wilful, and the fault 
Is yours who let me have my will, and now. 
Sweet father, will you let me lose my wits ? " 
"Nay," said he, "surely!" "Wherefore, let me 

hence," 
She answer' d, " and find out our dear Lavaine." 

750 " Ye will not lose your wits for dear Lavaiue; 

Bide," answer'd he: " We needs must hear anon 
Of him and of that other." " Ay," she said, 
" And of that other, for I needs must hence 
And find that other, wheresoe'er he be, 

755 And with mine own hand give his diamond to him. 
Lest I be found as faithless in the quest 
As yon proud prince who left the quest to me.* 
Sweet father, I behold him in my dreams 
Gaunt as it were the skeleton of himself, 

760 Death-pale, for lack of gentle maiden's aid. 

1 She, as well as Arthur, saw through Gawain's excuse. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 75 

The gentler-born the maiden, the more bound. 
My father, to be sweet and serviceable 
To noble knights in sickness, as ye know. 
When these have worn their tokens; let me hence 

65 I pray you." Then her father, nodding, said, 
*' Ay, ay, the diamond : Avit you well, my child. 
Eight fain were I to learn this knight were whole,' 
Being our greatest; yea, and you must give it — 
And sure I think this fruit is hung too high 

70 For any mouth to gape for save a Queen's — 
Nay, I mean nothing: so then, get you gone. 
Being so very wilful you must go." 

Lightly, her suit" allowed, she slipt away; 
And, while she made her ready for her ride, 

75 Her father's latest word humm'd in her ear, 
" Being so very wilful you must go," 
And changed itself, and echoed in her heart, 
" Being so very wilful you must die." 
But she was happy enough, and shook it off 

'80 As we shake off the bee that buzzes at us; 
And in her heart she answer'd it and said, 
" What matter, so I help him back to life ? " 
Then far away, Avith good Sir Torre for guide. 
Rode o'er the long backs of the bushless downs' 

85 To Camelot, and, before the city-gates. 
Came on her brother with a happy face 
Making a roan horse caper and curvet 
For pleasure all about a field of flowers: 
Whom when she saw, '* Lavaine," she cried, '* Lavaine, 

'90 How fares my lord Sir Lancelot? " lie, amazed, 
" Torre and Elaine! why here? Sir Lancelot! 
How know ye my lord's name is Lancelot ? " 

1 The old word of the romances, meaning that all wounds were healed. 

2 request ; an absolute construction. 3 an epic repetition ; see 1. 398. 



76 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

But when the maid had told him all her tale. 
Then turn'd Sir Torre, and, being in his moods, 

795 Left them, and under the strange-statued gate,* 
Where Arthur's wars were rendered mystically, 
Past up the still rich city to his kin. 
His own far blood, which dwelt at Camelot; 
And her, Lavaine across the poplar grove 

800 Led to the caves: there first she saw the casque 
Of Lancelot on the wall: her scarlet sleeve, 
Tho' carved and cut, and half the pearls away. 
Streamed from it still; and in her heart she laugh'd. 
Because he had not loosed it from his helm, 

805 But meant once more, perchance, to tourney in it. 
And, when they gain'd the cell in which he slept. 
His battle-writhen arms and mighty hands 
Lay naked on the wolfskin, and a dream 
Of dragging down his enemy made them move. 

810 Then she that saw him lying unsleek, unshorn. 
Gaunt as it were the skeleton of himself," 
Uttered a little, tender, dolorous cry. 
The sound, not wonted in a place so still, 
Woke the sick knight; and, while he roll'd his eyes 

815 Yet blank from sleep, she started to him, saying, 
'* Your prize, the diamond sent you by the King: " 
His eyes glisten'd : she fancied, '' Is it for me ? " 
And, when the maid had told him all the tale 
Of King and Prince, the diamond sent, the quest 

820 Assigned to her not worthy of it, she knelt 
Full lowly by the corners of his bed, 
And laid the diamond in his open hand. 
Her face was near, and, as we kiss the child 
That does the task assignM, he kiss'd her face. 

825 At once she slipt like water to the floor. 

" Alas," he said, *' your ride has wearied you. 

1 See Gareth and Lynette, 1. 221. ^ An epic repetition. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 77 

Rest must you have." " No rest for me/' she said ; 

" Nay, for near you, fair lord, I am at rest." 

What might she mean by that ? his large, black eyes, 
830 Yet larger thro' his leanness, dwelt upon her. 

Till all her-heart's sad secret blazed itself 

In the heart's colors on her simple face; 

And Lancelot look'd, and was perplext in mind, 
• And, being weak in body, said no more; 
835 But did not love the color; woman's love. 

Save one, he not regarded, and so turn'd. 

Sighing, and feign'd a sleep until he slept. 

Then rose Elaine and glided thro' the fields. 
And past beneath the wierdly-sculptured gates 

840 Far up the dim, rich city to her kin; 

There bode the night: but woke with dawn, and past 
Down thro' the dim, rich city ^ to the fields. 
Thence to the cave : so day by day she past 
In either twilight,"^ ghost-like to and fro 

845 Gliding, and every day she tended him,^ 
And likewise many a night : and Lancelot 
Would, tho' he call'd his wound a little hurt 
Whereof he should be quickly whole, at times 
Brain-feverous in his heat and agony, seem 

850 Uncourteous, even he: but the meek maid 
Sweetly forbore him ever, being to him 
Meeker than any child to a rough nurse. 
Milder than any mother to a sick child. 
And never woman yet, since man's first fall, 

855 Did kindlier unto man, but her deep love 
Upbore her; till the hermit, skill'd in all 
The simples and the science of that time, 

> Camelotwas high on a hill ; see Gareth and Lynette, 11. 189, 685. 

2 Morning and evening. 

3 In an age without professional doctors and nurses, their duties were taken by hermits 
and ladies, as well as others. 



78 LANCELOT AXD ELAINE. 

Told him that her fine care had saved his life. 
And the sick man forgot her simple blush, 

860 Would call her friend and sister, sweet Elaine, 
Would listen for her coming, and regret 
Her parting step, and held her tenderly. 
And loved her with all love except the love 
Of man and woman when they love their best, 

865 Closest, and sweetest, and had died the death 
In any kingly fashion for her sake. 
And, perad venture, had he seen her first,* 
She might have made this and that other world 
Another world for the sick man; but now 

870 The shackles of an old love straiten'd him. 
His honor rooted in dishonor stood. 
And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.' 

Yet the great knight in his mid-sickness made 
Full many a holy vow and pure resolve. 

875 These, as but born of sickness, could not live: 
For, when the blood ran lustier in him again, 
Full often the sweet image of one face. 
Making a treacherous quiet in his heart. 
Dispersed his resolution like a cloud. 

880 Then if the maiden, while that ghostly grace 
Beam'd on his fancy, spoke, he answer'd not. 
Or short and coldly, and she knew right well 
What the rough sickness meant, but what this meant 
She knew not,^ and the sorrow dimm'd her sight, 

885 And drave her ere her time across the fields 
Far into the rich city, where alone 
She murmur'd, " Vain, in vain: it cannot be, 

* Before Guinevere. 

' One of the antithetic lines, of which there were several in the original Idylls ; cf. 
Vivien, 11. 385-396. 

' She had had experience of physical ailment, but she did not know the symptoms of a 
sick soul. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 79 

He will not love me: how then ? must I die ? '' 

Then as a little, helpless, innocent bird, 
890 That has but one plain passage of few notes. 

Will sing the simple passage o'er and o'er 

For all an April morning, till the ear 

"Wearies to hear it, so the simple maid 

Went half the night, repeating, " Must I die ? " 
895 And now to right she turn'd, and now to left, 

And found no ease in turning or in rest; 

And ^' Him or death " she mutter'd, " Death or him," 

Again and like a burthen, '' Him or death." 

But when Sir Lancelot's deadly hurt was whole, 

900 To Astolat returning rode the three. 

There, morn by morn, arraying her sweet self 
In that wherein she deem'd she look'd her best. 
She came before Sir Lancelot, for she thought, 
*^ If I be loved, these are my festal robes; 

905 If not, the victim's flowers before he fall." * 
And. Lancelot ever prest upon the maid 
That she should ask some goodly gift of him 
For her own self or hers; " And do not shun 
To speak the wish most dear to your true heart; 

910 Such service have ye done me that I make 
My will of yours, and prince and lord am I 
In mine own land,' and what I will I can." 
Then like a ghost she lifted up her face. 
But like a ghost without the power to speak. 

915 And Lancelot saw that she withheld her wish. 
And bode among them yet a little space 
Till he should learn it; and one morn it chanced 
He found her in among the garden yews. 
And said, " Delay no longer, speak your wish, 

1 She thought of the garhinds which adorned animals coming to the sacrifice. 

2 Lancelot was lord of lands in Brittany or Little Britain ; of. 1. 953. 



5? 



80 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

920 Seeing I must go to-day: " then out she brake, 
" Going ? and we shall never see you more. 
And I must die for want of one bold word." 
*' Speak: that I live to hear," he said, '' is yours. 
Then suddenly and passionately she spoke: 

925 " I have gone mad. I love you: let me die." 

"Ah, sister," answer'd Lancelot, "what is this?" 
And, innocently extending her white arms, 
" Your love," she said, " your love — to be your wife." 
And Lancelot answer'd, " Had I chos'n to wed, 

930 I had been wedded earlier, sweet Elaine: 
But now there never will be wife of mine." 
" No, no," she cried, " I care not to be wife. 
But to be with you still, to see your face. 
To serve you, and to follow you thro' the world." 

935 And Lancelot answer'd, " Nay, the world, the world. 
All ear and eye, with such a stupid heart 
To interpret ear and eye, and such a tongue 
To blare its own interpretation — nay. 
Full ill then should I quit ^ your brother's love, 

940 And your good father's kindness." And she said, 
" Not to be with you, not to see your face — 
Alas for me, then, my good days are done." 
" Nay, noble maid," he answer'd, " ten times nay! 
This is not love: but love's first flash in youth, 

945 Most common: yea I know it of mine own self: 
And you yourself will smile at your own self 
Hereafter, when you yield your flower of life 
To one more fitly yours, not thrice your age: 
And then will I, for true you are and sweet 

950 Beyond mine old belief in womanhood. 

More specially, should your good knight be poor. 
Endow you with broad land and territory, 
Even to the half my realm beyond the seas, 

1 is due to you. ' requite. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 81 

So that would make you happy; furthermore, 
955 Ev'n to the death, as tho' ye were my blood. 
In all your quarrels will I be your knight. 
This will I do, dear damsel, for your sake. 
And more than this I cannot." 



While he spoke 
She neither blush'd nor shook, but deathly-pale 
9G0 Stood grasping what was nearest, then replied, 
" Of all this will I nothing; " and so fell, 
And thus they bore her swooning to her tower. 

Then spake, to whom thro' those black walls of yew 
Their talk had pierced, her father, '* Ay, a flash, 
065 I fear me, that will strike my blossom dead. 
Too courteous are you, fair Lord Lancelot. 
I pray you, use some rough discourtesy 
To blunt or break her passion." 

Lancelot said, 
*' That were against me: what I can I will; " 

970 And there that day remain 'd, and toward even 
Sent for his shield: full meekly rose the maid, 
Stript off the case, and gave the naked shield; 
Then, when she heard his horse upon the stones. 
Unclasping, flung the casement back, and look'd 

975 Down on his helm, from which her sleeve had gone. 
And Lancelot knew the little clinking sound; 
And she by tact of love was well aware 
That Lancelot knew that she was looking at him. 
And yet he glanced not up, nor waved his hand, 

980 Nor bade farewell, but sadly rode away. 
This was the one discourtesy that he used. 
6 



82 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

So iu her tower alone tlie maiden sat: 
His very sliielJ was gone; only the case, 
Her own poor work, her empty labor, left. 

985 But slili fche heard Lim, still his picture lorm'd 
And grew between her and the pictured wall.* 
Then came lier father, sayifig in low tones, 
" Have comfort," whom she greeted quietly. 
Then came her brethren, saying, " Poaca to thee, 

990 Sweet sister," whom she answered with all calm. 
But, when they left her to herself again. 
Death, like a friend's voice from a distant field 
Approaching thro' the darkness, call'd ; the owls' 
Wailing had power upon her, and she mixt 

995 Her fancies with the sallow-rifted glooms 
Of evening, and the moanings of thj Avind. 

And in those dajs she made a little song. 
And call'd her song '' The song of Love and Death." 
And sang it: sweetly could she ma'Ac"^ and si:ig. 

1000 '' Sweet is true love tho' given in vain, in vain; 
And sweet is death, who puts an end to pain; 
I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. 

'* Love, art thon sweet? then bitter death must be: 
Love, thou art bitter; sweet is death to me. 
1005 Love, if death be sweeter, let me die. 

*' Sweet love, that seems not made to fade away. 
Sweet death, that seems to make us loveless clay, 
I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. 

** I fain would follow love, if that could be; 
1010 I needs must follow death, who calls for me; 
Call and I follow, I follow! let me die." 

J pictured iu tapestry. 2 xhe wcrJ jjoit 'n from the Greek word meaning " maker. 



LANCE F.OT AND ELAINE. 83 

High with the last line scaled her voice; and this. 
All ill a fiery dawuiiig wild with wind, 
Tliat shook her tower, the brothers heard, and thought 
1015 With shuddering, " llaik the Phantom of the house 
That ever shrieks before a deatli," and call'd 
The father, and all three in hurry and fear 
Ean to her, and lo! the blood-red light of dawn 
Flared on her face, she shrilling, " Let me die! " ' 

1020 As when we dwell upon a word we know, 
ReiDeati ng, till the word we know so well 
Becomes a wonder and we know not why,'' 
So dwelt the father on her face and thought, 
" Is this Elaine ? " till back the maiden fell, 

1025 Then gave a languid hand to each, and lay. 
Speaking a still good-morrow with her eyes. 
At last she said, " Sweet brothers, yesternight 
I seem'd a curious little maid again. 
As happy as when we dwelt among the woods, 

1030 And when ye used to take me with the flood 
Up the great river in the boatman's boat. 
Only, ye would not pass beyond the cape 
That has the poplar on it: there ye fixt 
Your limit, oft returning with the tide. 

1035 And yet I cried because ye would not pass 
Beyond it, and far up the shining flood 
Until we found the palace of the King. 
And yet ye would not; but this night I dream'd 
That I was all alone upon the flood, 

1040 And then I said, * Now shall I have ray will : ' 
And there I woke, but still the wish remain'd. 
So let me hence that I may pass at last 

> A romanUc, even hectic, picture. 

2 If one tries the experiment, any word repeatetl over and over again will seem quite 
meaningless. 



84 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

Beyond the poplar and far up the flood. 
Until I find the palace of the king. 

1045 There will I enter in among them all. 

And no man there will dare to mock at me; 
But there the fine Grawain will wonder at me. 
And there the great Sir Lancelot muse at me; 
Gawain, who bade a thousand farewells to me, 

1050 Lancelot, who coldly went nor bade me one: 

And there the King will know me and my love. 
And there the Queen herself will pity me,' 
And all the gentle court will welcome me, 
And after my long voyage I shall rest! " 

1055 '^ Peace," said her father, '' my child, ye seem 
Light-headed, for what force is yours to go 
So far, being sick ? and wherefore would ye look 
On this proud fellow again, who scorns us all ? " 

Then the rough Torre began to heave and move, 
1060 And bluster into stormy sobs, and say, 

'^ I never loved him: an I meet with him, 

I care not howsoever great he be, 

Then will I strike at him and strike him down. 

Give me good fortune, I will strike him dead, 
1065 For this discomfort he hath done the house." 

To which the gentle sister made reply, 
" Fret not yourself, dear brother, nor be wroth. 
Seeing it is no more Sir Lancelot's fault 
Not to love me, than it is mine to love 
1070 Him of all men who seems to me the highest." 

" Highest ? " the father auswer'd, echoing " highest ? " 
(He meant to break the passion in her) " *' nay. 
Daughter, I know not what you call the highest; 

1 The poet's irony again. ^ gg thought he might do away with her love. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 85 

But this I know, for all the people know it, 
1075 He loves the Queen, and in an open shame: 
And she returns his love in open shame. 
If this be high, what is it to be low ? " 

Then spake the lily maid of Astolat, 
** Sweet father, all too faint and sick am I 

1080 For auger: these are slanders: never yet 
Was noble man but made ignoble talk. 
He makes no friend Avho never made a foe. 
But now it is my glory to have loved 
One peerless, without stain: so let me pass,' 

1085 My father, howsoe'er I seem to you, 

Not all unhappy, having loved God's best 
And greatest, tho' my love had no return : 
Yet, seeing ye desire your child to live. 
Thanks, but ye work against your own desire; 

•1090 For, if I could believe the things ye say, 

I should but die the sooner; wherefore cease. 
Sweet father, and bid call the ghostly ^ man 
Hither, and let me shrive me clean, and die." 

So when the ghostly man had come and gone, 
1095 She with a face, bright as for sin forgiven. 
Besought Lavaine to write, as she devised, 
A letter, word for word; and, when he ask'd, 
" Is it for Lancelot, is it for my dear lord ? 
Then will I bear it gladly; " she replied, 
1100 '• For Lancelot and the Queen and all the world. 
But I myself must bear it." Then he wrote 
The letter she devised; which, being writ 
And folded, " sweet father, tender and true. 
Deny me not," she said — " ye never yet 

» The word is common in the Idylls, meaning " to go"; here, to pass from earth, as in 
The Passing of Arthur. '•' the spiritual one, the priest. 



86 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

1105 Deuied my faucies — this, however strange, 

My latest: lay the letter in my hand 

A little ere I die, and close the hand 

Upon it; I shall guard it even in death. 

And when the heat is gone from out my heart, 
1110 Then take the little bed on which I died 

For Lancelot's love, and deck it like the Queen's 

For richness, and me also like the Queen 

In all I have of rich, and lay me on it. 

And let there be prepared a chariot-bier 
1115 To take me to the river, and a barge 

Be ready on the river, clothed in black. 

I go in state to court to meet the Queen. 

There surely I shall speak for mine own self. 

And none of you can speak for me so well. 
1120 And therefore let our dumb, old man alone 

Go with me; he can steer and row, and he 

Will guide me to that palace, to the doors." 

She ceased: her father promised; whereupon 
She grew so cheerful that they deem'd her death 
1125 Was rather in the fantasy' than tlie blood. 

But ten slow mornings past, and on the eleventh 
Her father laid the letter in lier hand, 
And closed the hand upon it, and she died. 
So that day there was dole' in Astolat. 

1130 But when the next sun brake from underground,' 
Then, those two brethren slowly, with bent brows. 
Accompanying the sad chariot-bier. 
Past like a shadow through the field, that shone 
Full-summer, to that stream whereon the barge, 

1135 Pall'd * all its length in blackest samite, lay. 

1 the same word originally as/a/icy. ^ grjef _ » Cf. 1. 411. ♦ draped as in a pall. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 87 

There sat the lifelong creature of the house. 
Loyal, the dumb old servitor, on deck. 
Winking his eyes, and twisted all his face. 
So those two brethren from the chariot took 

1140 And on the black decks laid her in her bed. 
Set in her hand a lily, o'er her hung 
The silken case with braided blazouings,^ 
And kiss'd her quiet brows, and saying to her, 
" Sister, farewell for ever," and again, 

1145 *' Farewell, sweet sister," parted all in tears. 

Then rose the dumb old servitor, and the dead, 
Steer'd by the dumb, went upward with the flood — 
In her right hand the lily, in her left 
The letter — all her bright hair streaming down — 

1150 And all the coverlid was cloth of gold 

Drawn to her waist, and she herself in white 
All but her face, and that clear-featured face 
AYas lovely, for she did not seem as dead 
But fast asleep, and lay as though she smiled. 

1155 That day Sir Lancelot at the palace craved 
Audience of Guinevere, to give at last 
The price of half a realm,'^ his costly gift. 
Hard-won and hardly won with bruise and blow, 
AVith deaths of others, and almost his own, — 

1160 The nine-years-fought- for diamonds: for he saw 
One of her house,' and sent him to the Queen 
Bearing his wish, wliereto the Queen agreed 
AVith such and so unmoved a majesty 
She might have seem'd her statue, but that he, 

1165 Low-drooping till he well nigh kiss'd her feet 
For loyal awe, saw with a sidelong eye 
The shadow of a piece of pointed lace, 

1 Cf . 11. 8, 9. ^ Cf . 1. 72. ' one of her gentlemen in waiting. 



88 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

In the Queen's shadow, vibrate on the walls. 
And parted, laughing in his courtly heart.' 

1170 All in an oriel ' on the summer side. 

Vine-clad, of Arthur's palace toward the stream. 
They met, and Lancelot, kneeling, utter 'd, " Queen, 
Lady, my liege, in whom I have my joy. 
Take, what I had not won except for you, 

1175 These jewels, and make me happy, making them 
An armlet for the roundest arm on earth. 
Or necklace for a neck to which the swan's 
Is tawnier than her cygnet's : ' these are words : * 
Your beauty is your beauty, and I sin 

1180 In speaking, yet grant my worship of it 

Words, as we grant grief tears. Such sin in words 
Perchance we both can pardon: but, my Queen, 
I hear of rumors flying through your court. 
Our bond, as not the bond of man and wife, 

1185 Should have in it an absoluter trust 

To make up that defect: let rumors be: 
When did not rumors fly ? these, as I trust 
That you trust me in your own nobleness, 
I may not well believe that you believe." 

1190 While thus he spoke, half turn'd away, the Queen 
Brake from the vast oriel-embowering vine 
Leaf after leaf, and tore, and cast them off,^ 
Till all the place whereon she stood was green; 
Then, when he ceased, in one cold passive hand 

1 The mention of court and courtiers always shows us polished deceit, which contrasts 
with the simple truth of Astolat. 

2 A window projecting from a wall ; this one overlooked the river toward the south 
and was covered with vines. 

3 Her neck was as much whiter than the swan's as the swan's is whiter than the 
cygnet's, or young swan's. 

* They certainly were, and extravagant words at that. 
' She picked nervously at the vine. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 89 

1195 Received at once and laid aside the gems 
There on a table near her, and replied : 

"It may be I am quicker of belief 
Than you believe me. Lancelot of the Lake, 
Our bond is not the bond of man and wife. 

1200 This good is in it, whatsoe'er of ill. 
It can be broken easier. I for you 
This many a year have done despite and wrong 
To one whom ever in my heart of hearts 
I did acknowledge nobler.^ What are these? 

1205 Diamonds for me ? they had been thrice their worth 
Being your gift,- had you not lost your own. 
To loyal hearts the value of all gifts 
Must vary as the giver's."* Not for me! 
For her! for your new fancy. Only this 

1210 Grant me, I pray you: have your joys apart. 
I doubt not that, however changed, you keep 
So much ' of what is graceful : and myself 
Would shun to break those bonds of courtesy 
In which, as Arthur's Queen, I move and rule: 

1215 So cannot speak my mind. An end to this! 
A strange one! yet I take it with Amen. 
So pray you, add my diamonds to her pearls; 
Deck her with these; tell her she shines me down: 
An armlet for an arm to which the Queen's 

1220 Is haggard, or a necklace for a neck 
as much fairer as a faith once fair 
Was richer than these diamonds! hers, not mine — 
Nay, by the mother of our Lord himself. 
Or hers or mine, mine now to work my will — 

1225 She shall not have them." 

1 One should read Guinevere to see how she sometimes felt. 

2 So Ophelia : " Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove \xakxu.(Xy— Hamlet^ III, i, 101. 

3 as much as that. 



90 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

Sayiug which she seized, 
And, throngli the casement, standing wide for heat, 
Flung them, and down they flash 'd, and smote the 

stream. 
Then from the smitten surface flash 'd, as it were. 
Diamonds to meet them, and they past away.' 

1230 Tlien, while Sir Lancelot leant, in half disgust 
At love, life, all things, on the window ledge. 
Close underneath his eyes, and right across 
Where these had fallen, slowly past the barge 
Whereon the lily maid of Astolat 

1235 Lay smiling, like a star in blackest night. 

But the wild Queen, who saw not, burst away 
To weep and wail in secret; and the barge. 
On to the palace-doorway sliding, paused. 
There two stood arm'd, and kept the door; to whom, 

1240 All up the marble stair, tier over tier, 

Were added'' mouths that gaped, and eyes that ask'd, 
" What is it ? ". But that oarsman's haggard face. 
As hard and still as is the face that men 
Shape to their fancy's eye from broken rocks 

1245 On some cliff-side, appall'd them, and they said, 
" He is enchanted, cannot speak — and she. 
Look how she sleeps — the Fairy Queen, so fair! 
Yea, but how pale! what are they ? flesh and blood ? 
Or come to take the King to fairy land ? 

1250 For some do hold our Arthur cannot die. 
But that he passes into fairy land." ' 

While thus they babbled of the King, the King 
Came girt with knights: then turn'd the tongueless 
man 

1 Note how the diamonds disappear unregretted ; they were of real vahie only accord- 
ing to that they stood for. 

2 everybody came running, ^ as we shall see in the next poem. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 91 

From the half-face to the full eye, and rose 
1255 And pointed to the damsel, and the doors. 
So Arthur bade the meek Sir Percivale 
And pure Sir Galahad ' to uplift the maid; 
And reverently they bore her into hall. 
Then came the fine Gawain and wonder'd at her, 
1260 And Lancelot later came and mused at her. 
And last the Queen herself and pitied her: 
But Arthur spied the letter in her hand, 
Stoopt, took, brake seal, and read it; this was all: 

*^ Most noble lord. Sir Lancelot of the Lake, 
12C5 I, sometime^ call'd the maid of Astolat, 

Come, for you left me taking no farewell. 

Hither to take my last farewell of you. 

I loved you, and my love had no return, 

And therefore my true love has been my death. 
1270 And therefore to our lady Guinevere, 

And to all other ladies, I make moan. 

Pray for my soul, and yield me burial. 

Pray for my soul, thou too. Sir Lancelot, 

As thou art a knight peerless." 

Thus he read, 
1275 And, ever in the reading, lords and dames 
Wept, looking often from his face who read 
To hers which lay so silent, and at times 
So touch 'd were they, half-thinking that her lips 
AVho had devised the letter moved again. 

1280 Then freely spoke Sir Lancelot to them all; 
" My lord, liege Arthur, and all ye that hear, 
Know that for this most gentle maiden's death 

1 Two knights, the purest and best of the Round Table, of whom we hear mcst in The 
Holy Grail. " formerly. 



92 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

Eight heavy am I ; for good she was and true. 
But loved me with a love beyond all love 

1285 In women, whomsoever I have known. 
Yet to be loved makes not to love again; 
Not at my years, however it hold in youth. 
I swear by truth and knighthood that I gave 
No cause, not willingly, for such a love: 

1290 To this I call my friends in testimony, 

Her brethren, and her father, who himself 
Besought me to be plain and blunt, and use. 
To break her passion, some discourtesy 
Against my nature : what I could, I did. 

1295 I left her, and I bade her no farewell. 

Though, had I dreamt the damsel would have died, 
I might have put my wits to some rough use. 
And help'd her from herself." 

Then said the Queen, 
(Sea was her wrath, yet working after storm) ' 

1300 " Ye might at least have done her so much grace. 

Fair lord, as would have help'd her from her death." 
He raised his head, their eyes met and hers fell, 
He adding, *' Queen, she would not be content 
Save that I wedded her, which could not be. 

1305 Then might she follow me through the world, she ask'd ; 
It could not be. I told her that her love 
Was but the flash of youth, would darken down 
To rise hereafter in a stiller flame 
Toward one more worthy of her. Then would I, 

1310 More specially were he she wedded poor. 

Estate them with large land and territory * 
In mine own realm beyond the narrow seas. 
To keep them in all joyance; more than this 
I could not; this she would not, and she died." 

1 She was not yet calm. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 93 

1315 He pausing, Arthur answer'd, ^' my knight. 
It will be to thy worship, as my knight, 
And mine, as head of all our Table Round, 
To see that she be buried worshipfully." 

So toward that shrine which then in all the realm 

1320 Was richest, Arthur leading, slowly went 
The marshaPd order of their Table Round, 
And Lancelot sad beyond his wont to see 
The maiden buried, not as one unknown. 
Nor meanly, but with gorgeous obsequies, 

1325 And mass, and rolling music, like a queen. 

And, when the knights had laid her comely head 
Low in the dust of half-forgotten kings. 
Then Arthur spake among them, ** Let her tomb 
Be costly; and her image thereupon. 

1330 And let the shield of Lancelot at her feet 
Be carven, and her lily in her hand. 
And let the story of her dolorous voyage 
For all true hearts be blazon'd on her tomb 
In letters gold and azure! " which was wrought 

1335 Thereafter; but, when now the lords and dames 
And people, from the high door streaming, brake 
Disorderly, as homeward each, the Queen, 
Who mark'd Sir Lancelot where he moved apart. 
Drew near, and sigh'd, in passing, " Lancelot, 

13'40 Forgive me; mine was jealousy in love." 

He answer'd with his eyes upon the ground, 
" That is love's curse; pass on, my Queen, forgiven.'' 
But Arthur, who beheld his cloudy brows, 
Approach'd him, and with full affection said : 

1345 " Lancelot, my Lancelot, thou in whom I have 
Most love and most affiance,* for I know 

1 trust, confidence. 



94 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

What thou hast been in battle by my side. 
And many a time have watched thee at the tilt 
Strike down the lusty and long-practised knight, 

1350 And let the younger and unskill'd go by 
To win his honor and to make his name. 
And loved thy courtesies and thee, a man 
Made to be loved ; but now I would to God, 
For the wild people say wild things of thee, 

1355 Thou couldst have loved this maiden, shaped, it seems. 
By God for thee alone, and from her face. 
If one may judge the living by the dead. 
Delicately pure and marvelously fair. 
Who might have brought thee, now a lonely man, 

1360 Wifeless and heirless, noble issue, sons 

Born to the glory of thy name and fame. 

My knight, the great Sir Lancelot of the Lake." 

Then answer'd Lancelot, "Fair she was, my King, 
Pure, as you ever wish your knights to be. 
1365 To doubt her fairness were to want an eye. 

To doubt her pureness were to want a heart — 

Yea, to be loved, if what is worthy love 

Could bind him, but free love will not be bound." 

'' Free love, so bound, were freest," said the King. 

1370 " Let love be free; free love is for the best: 
And, after heaven, on our dull side of death. 
What should be best, if not so pure a love 
Clothed in so pure a loveliness? yet thee 
She fail'd to bind, though being, as I think, 

1375 Unbound as yet, and gentle, as I know." 

And Lancelot answer'd nothing, but he went. 
And, at the inrunning of a little brook. 
Sat by the river in a cove, and watch'd 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 95 

The high reed wave, and lifted up his eyes 

1380 And saw the barge that brought her, moving down/ 
Far-off, a blot upon the stream, and said 
Low in himself, " Ah ! simple heart and sweet. 
Ye loved me, damsel, surely with a love 
Far tenderer than my Queen's. Pray for thy soul ? 

1385 Ay, that will I. Farewell too — now at last — 
Farewell, fair lily. ' Jealousy in love ? ' 
Not rather dead love's harsh heir, jealous pride ? * 
Queen, if I grant the jealousy as of love. 
May not your crescent fear for name and fame 

1390 Speak, as it waxes, of a love that wanes? 

Why did the King dwell on my name to me ? 
Mine own name shames me, seeming a reproach, 
Lancelot, whom the Lady of the Lake 
Stole from his mother — as the story runs. 

1395 She chanted snatches of mysterious song 

Heard on the winding waters; eve and morn 
She kiss'd me saying, ' Thou art fair, my child, 
As a king's son,' and often in her arms 
She bare me, pacing on the dusky mere. 

1400 AYould she had drown'd me in it, where'er it be! 
Por what ami? what profits me my name 
Of greatest knight? I fought for it, and have it: 
Pleasure to have it, none; to lose it, pain; 
Now grown a part of me: but what use in it? 

1405 To make men worse by making my sifi known? 
Or sin seem less, the sinner seeming great? 
Alas for Arthur's greatest knight, a man 
Not after Arthur's heart! I needs must break 
These bonds that so defame me: not without 

1410 She wills it: would I, if she will'd it? nay. 

Who knows? but, if I would not, then may Ood, 

1 Aetolat was below Camelot, on the river. 

' He probably judged the queen more correctly than she had herself. 



96 LANCELOT AND ELAINE. 

I pray Him, send a sudden angel down 
To seize me by the hair and bear me far. 
And fling me deep into that forgotten mere, 
1415 Among the tumbled fragments of the hills." 

So groan'd Sir Lancelot in remorseful pain, 
Not knowing he should die a holy man. 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 

That story' which the bold Sir Bedivere, 
First made and latest left of all the knights. 
Told, when the man was no more than a voice 
In the white winter of his age, to those 
5 With whom he dwelt, new faces, other minds. 

For on their march to westward, Bedivere, 
Who slowly paced among the slumbering host. 
Heard in his tent the moanings of the King: 

" I found Him in the shining of the stars,' 
10 I mark'd Him in the flowering of His fields. 
But in His ways with men I find Him not. 
I waged His wars, and now I pass and die. 
me! for why is all around us here 
As if some lesser god had made the world, 
15 But had not force to shape it as he would. 
Till the High God behold it from beyond, 
And enter it, and make it beautiful ? 
Or else as if the world were wholly fair. 
But that these eyes of men are dense and dim, 
20 And have not power to see it as it is: 

Perchance, because we see not to the close; — 
For I, being simple, thought to work His will, 
And have but stricken with the sword in vain; 
And all whereon I lean'd in wife and friend ' 

1 Lines 1-169 are additions to the original Morte d\ir(hur, published in 1842. It will 
be seen that they are chiefly of such a nature as to explain what was episodical and 
connect it with Guinevere. 

3 Lines 9-28 are expressive of the King's mind at the apparent failure of his great pur- 
pose (p. ix); 11. 407-432, especially 409, 410, give us the truer conception which came to 
him later. ' Guinevere and Lancelot. 

7 



98 THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 

25 Is traitor to my peace, and all my realm 
Reels back into the beast, and is no more. 
My God, thou hast forgotten me iu my death: 
Nay — God my Christ — I pass' but shall not die." 

Then, ere that last weird battle in the west, 

30 There came on Arthur sleeping, Gawain ' kill'd 
In Lancelot's war,^ the ghost of Gawain blown 
Along a wandering wind, and past his ear 
Went shrilling, "Hollow, hollow all delight! 
Hail, King! to-morrow thou shalt pass away. 

35 Farewell! there is an isle of rest for thee. 
And I am blown along a wandering wind. 
And hollow, hollow, hollow all delight." 
And fainter onward, like wild birds that change 
Their season in the night and wail their way 

40 From cloud to cloud, down the long wind the dream 
ShrilPd; but in going mingled with dim cries 
Far in the moonlit haze among the hills. 
As of some lonely city sack'd by night, 
AVhen all is lost, and wife and child with wail 

45 Pass to new lords; and Arthur woke and call'd, 
" Who spake? A dream. light upon the wind. 
Thine, Gawain, was the voice— are these dim cries 
Thine ? or doth all that haunts the waste and wild 
Mourn, knowing it will go along with me ? " 

50 This heard the bold Sir Bedivere and spake: 
** me, my King, let pass whatever will. 
Elves, and the harmless glamour* of the field: 

1 Tennyson uses the word often for "go away," sometimes in the sense of death. 
Here, however, it means to pass from earth without dying. 

2 Gawain was the one of Arthur's knights most famed for outward courtesy ((^are^/i 
and Lynette, 1. 25, and note), but not for solid worth; see 1. 56 below, and Lancelot 
and Elaine, 1. 553. 

3 as told in Guinevere. * enchantment; it is the same word as gramarye. 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 99 

But ill their stead thy name ami glory cling 

To all high places like a golden cloud 
55 For ever: but as yet th(>u shalt not pass. 

Light was Gawain in life, and light in death 

Is Gawain, for the ghost is as the man; 

And care not thou for droams from him, but rise — 

I hear the steps of Mod red ' in the west, 
CO And with him many of thy people, and knights 

Once thine, whom thou hast loved, but grosser grown 

Than heathen, spitting at their vows and thee. 

Right well in heart they know thee for the King. 

Arise, go forth and conquer as of old." 

65 Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: 
" Far other is this battle in the west 
Whereto we move, than when we strove in youth. 
And brake the petty kings, and fought with Rome, 
Or thrust the heathen from the Roman wall, 

70 And shook him thro' the north. Ill doom" is mine 
To war against my people and my knights. 
The king who fights his people fights himself. 
And they my knights, who loved me once, the stroke 
That strikes them dead is as my death to mo. 

75 Yet let us hence, and find or feel a way 

Thro' this blind haze, which ever since I saw 
One lying in the dust at Almesbury,' 
Hath folded in the passes of the world." 

Then rose the King and moved his host by night, 
80 And ever push'd Sir Modred, league by league. 
Back to the sunset bound of Lyounesse — 

» Modred, the traitor {Gareth and Lynette, 1. 26), while Arthur was absent in war with 
Lancelot, had raised a rebellion against the king, who was hie uncle. 

2 fate. 

' Guinevere, when she fled from the king, took refuge in a nunnery at Almeabury, as 
is told in Guinevere. 

LofC. 



100 THE PASSING OF ARTHUB. 

A land of old upheaTen from the abyss 
By fire, to sink into the abyss again; 
Where fragments of forgotten peoples dwelt, 
85 And the long mountains ended in a coast 
Of ever-shifting sand, and far away 
The phantom circle of a moaning sea. 
There the pursuer could pursue no more. 
And he that fled no further fly the King; 
90 And there, that day when the great light of heaven 
Burn'd at his lowest in the rolling year,' 
On the waste sand by the waste sea they closed. 
Nor ever yet had Arthur fought a fight 
Like this last, dim, weird battle of the west. 
95 A deathwhite mist slept over sand and sea: 

Whereof the chill, to him who breathed, it, drew 
Down with his blood, till all his heart was cold 
With formless fear; and ev'n on Arthur fell 
Confusion, since he saw not whom he fought. 

100 For friend and foe were shadows in the mist. 

And friend slew friend not knowing whom he slew; 
And some had visions out of golden youth. 
And some beheld the faces of old ghosts 
Look in upon the battle; and in the mist 

105 Was many a noble deed, many a base. 

And chance and craft and strength in single fights. 
And ever and anon with host to host 
Shocks, and the splintering spear, the hard mail hewD, 
Shield-breakings, and the clash of brands, the crash 

110 Of battleaxes on shattered helms, and shrieks 
After the Christ, of those who falling down 
Look'd up for heaven, and only saw the mist; 
And shouts of heathen and the traitor knights,' 

» The time of this idyll is mid-winter, just as that of Gareth and Lynette is spring, and 
that of Lancelot and Elaine is summer, 
a Modred and the other rebels had allied themselves with the Anglo-Saxon invaders. 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 101 

Oaths, insult, filth, and monstrous blasphemies, 
115 Sweat, wri things, anguish, laboring of the lungs 
In that close mist, and cryings for the light. 
Moans of the dying, and voices of the dead. 

Last, as by some one deathbed after wail 
Of suffering, silence follows, or thro' death 

120 Or deathlike swoon, thus over all that shore. 
Save for some whisper of the seething seas, 
A dead hush fell; but when the dolorous day 
Grew drearier toward twilight falling, came 
A bitter wind, clear from the North, and blew 

125 The mist aside, and with that wind the tide 

Rose, and the pale King glanced across the field 
Of battle: but no man was moving there; 
Nor any cry of Christian heard thereon, 
Nor yet of heathen; only the wan wave 

130 Brake in among dead faces, to and fro 

Swaying the helpless hands, and up and down 
Tumbling the hollow helmets of the fallen. 
And shiver'd brands that once had fought with Rome,' 
And rolling far along the gloomy shores 

135 The voice of days of old and days to be. 

Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere, 
And whiter than the mist that all day long 
Had held the field of battle was the King: 

*' Hearest thou this great voice that shakes the world, 
140 And wastes the narrow realm whereon we move. 
And beats upon the faces of the dead, 
My dead, as tho' they had not died for me ? — 
Bedivere, for on my heart hath fall'n 
Confusion, till I know not what I am, 

1 Arthur had conquered Roman iuvudere as well as the Anglo-Saxons. 



102 THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 

145 Nor whence I am, nor whether I be King. 
Behold, I seem but King among the dead." 

Then spake the bold Sir Bedivere: " My King, 
King everywhere! and so ^ the dead. have kings, 
Tiiere also will I worship thee as King. 
150 Yet still thy life is whole, and still I live 

Who love thee; but who hates thee, he that brought 
The heathen back among us, yonder stands, 
Modred, unharm'd, the traitor of thine house." 

Then spake the King: *' My house* hath been my 
doom. 

155 But call not thou this traitor of my house 

Who hath but dwelt beneath one roof with me. 
My house are rather they who sware my vows, 
Yea, even while they brake them, own'd me King. 
And well for thee, saying in my dark hour, 

160 When all the purport of my throne hath fail'd. 
That quick or dead thou boldest me for King. 
King am I, whatsoever be their cry; 
And one last act of kinghood shalt thou see 
Yet, ere I pass." And uttering this the King 

165 Made at the man: then Modred smote his liege 
Hard on that helm which many a heathen sword 
Had beaten thin; while Arthur at one blow. 
Striking the last stroke with Excalibur,^ 
Slew him, and all but slain himself, he fell. 

170 So all day long the noise of battle roU'd 
Among the mountains by the winter sea; 
Until King Arthur's Table, man by man, 

1 This expression, like an if {Lancelot and Elaine, 1. 218), is a reduplication, meaning 
if, as an, and or so would alone. 

2 those of my family. ^ The sword of Arthur ; cf. Garelh and Lynette, 1. 66. 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 103 

Had faH'n in Lyonnesse about their lord. 

King Arthur. Then, because his wound was deep, 

175 The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him. 

And bore him to a chapel nigh the field, 
A broken chancel with a broken cross. 
That stood on a dark strait of barren land : 
On one side lay the Ocean, and on one 

180 Lay a great water, and the moon was full. 

Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: 
** The sequel of to-day unsolders all 
The goodliest fellowship of famous knights 
Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep 

185 They sleep — the men I loved. I think that we 
Shall never more, at any future time. 
Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds. 
Walking about the gardens and the halls 
Of Camelot, as in the days that were. 

190 I perish by this people which I made, — 

Tho' Merlin sware that I should come again 
To rule once more; but, let what will to be, be, 
I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm 
That without help I cannot last till morn. 

195 Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur, 

Which was my pride: for thou rememberest how 
In those old days, one summer noon, an arm 
Rose up from out the bosom of the lake. 
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, 

200 Holding the sword — and how I row'd across 
And took it, and have worn it, like a king; 
And, wheresoever I am sung or told 
In aftertime, this also shall be known: 
But now delay not: take Excalibur, 

205 And fling him far into the middle mere: 

Watch what thou seest, and lightly bring me word.'' 



104 THE PASSING OF ARTHUE. 

To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere: 
'' It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee thus. 
Aidless, alone, and smitten thro' the helm — 
210 A little thing may harm a wounded man; 
Yet I thy hest ' will all perform at full. 
Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word." 

So saying, from the ruin'd shrine he stept, 
And in the moon athwart the place of tombs, 
215 Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men. 
Old knights, and over them the seawind sang 
Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down 
By zigzag paths, and jats of pointed rock. 
Came on the shining levels of the lake. 

220 There drew he forth the brand Excalibur, 
And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon, 
Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth 
And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt: 
For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks, 

225 Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work 
Of subtlest jewelry.'' He gazed so long 
That both his eyes were dazzled as he stood, 
This way and that dividing the swift mind. 
In act to throw . but at the last it seem'd 

230 Better to leave Excalibur conceal'd 

There in the many-knotted waterflags. 
That whistled stiff and dry about the marge. 
So strode he back slow to the wounded King. 

Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: 
235 " Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave ? 
What is it thou hast seen ? or what hast heard ? " 

1 behest, command. 

2 Excalibur, according to the story, "gave light like thirty torches." 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 105 

And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: 
" I heard the ri23ple washing in the reeds. 
And the wild water lapping^ on the crag." 

dO To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale: 
" Thou hast be tray 'd thy nature and thy name. 
Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd 
Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight : 
For surer sign had followed, either hand, 

1:5 Or voice, or else a motion of the mere. 
This is a shameful thing for men to lie. 
Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again. 
As thou are lief and dear,^ and do the thing 
I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me word." 

)0 Then went Sir Bedivere the second time 
Across the ridge, and paced beside the mere. 
Counting the dcAvy pebbles, fix'd in thought; 
But when he saw the wonder of the hilt, 
How curiously and strangely chased, he smote 

)5 His palms together, and he cried aloud : 

*' And if indeed I cast the brand away. 
Surely a precious thing, one worthy note. 
Should thus be lost for ever from the earth. 
Which might have pleased the eyes of many men. 

;0 What good shall follow this, if this were done ? 
What harm, undone ? Deep harm to disobey. 
Seeing obedience is the bond of rule. 
Were it well to obey then, if a king demand 
An act unprofitable, against himself ? 

)5 The King is sick, and knows not what he does. 
What record, or what relic of my lord 

» The word imitates the sound. 

^ The words have the same meaning; the repetition is in the spirit of older poetry. 



10(5 THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 

Should be to after time, but empty breath 
And rumors of a doubt ? But were this kept. 
Stored in some treasure-house of mighty kings, 

270 Some one might show it at a joust of arms, 
Saying, ' King Arthur's sword, Excalibur, 
Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Lake. 
Nine years she wrought it, sitting in the deeps 
Upon the hidden bases of the hills.' 

275 So might some old man speak in the aftertime 
To all the people, winning reverence. 
But now much honor and much fame were lost." 

So spake he, clouded with his own conceit,' 
And hid Excalibur the second time, 
280 And so strode back slow to the wounded King. 

Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily : 
** What is it thou hast seen ? or what hast heard ? 

And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : 
'* I heard the water lapping on the crag, 
285 And the long ripple washing in the reeds." 

To whom replied King Arthur much in wrath : 
*' Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue, 
Unknightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me! 
Authority forgets a dying king, 

290 Laid widow'd of the power in his eye 

That bowed the will. I see thee what thou art,* 
For thou, the latest-left of all my knights. 
In whom should meet the offices of all. 
Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt; 

295 Either from lust of gold, or like a girl 
Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes. 

1 his own idea. ^ ggg Gareth and Lyneite, 1. 285 and note. 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 107 

Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice. 
And the third time may prosper, get thee hence: 
But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur, 
300 I will arise and slay thee with my hands/' 

Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran. 
And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged 
Among the bulrush beds, and clutch 'd the sword. 
And strongly wheel'd and threw it. The great brand 

305 Made lightnings in the splendor of the moon. 

And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch. 
Shot like a streamer of the northern morn,^ 
Seen where the moving isles of winter shock 
By night, with noises of the Northern Sea. 

310 So flash'd and fell the brand Excalibur: 
But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm 
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. 
And caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him 
Three times, and drew him under in the mere. 

315 And lightly went the other to the King. 

Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath: 
" Now see I by thine eyes that this is done. 
Speak out : what is it thou hast heard, or seen ? 

And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: 
320 " Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest the gems 
Should blind my purpose, for I never saw. 
Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till I die. 
Not tho' I live three lives of mortal men. 
So great a miracle as yonder hilt. 
325 Then with both hands I flung him, wheeling him; ' 
But when I look'd again, behold an arm, 

^ The Aurora Borealis. 

2 Bedivere speaks of the sword as a person; it had a name and a character of its own- 



108 THE PASSING OF ARTHUE. 

Clothed ill white samite, mystic, wonderful. 
That caught him by the hilt, and brandish 'd him 
Three times, and drew him under in the mere." 

330 And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard : 
" My end draws nigh; 'tis time that I were gone. 
Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight. 
And bear me to the margin; yet I fear 
My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die." 

335 So saying, from the pavement he half rose. 
Slowly, with pain, reclining on his arm. 
And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes 
As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere 
Remorsefully regarded thro' his tears, 

340 And would have spoken, but he found not words; 
Then took with care, and kneeling on one knee. 
O'er both his shoulders drew the languid hands. 
And rising bore him thro' the place of tombs. 

But, as he walk'd. King Arthur panted hard, 
345 Like one that feels a nightmare on his bed 

When all the house is mute. So sigh'd the King, 
Muttering and murmuring at his ear, " Quick, quick! 
I fear it is too late, and I shall die." 
But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge, 
350 Clothed with his breath, and looking, as he walk'd. 
Larger than human on the frozen hills. 
He heard the deep behind him, and a cry 
Before. His own thought drove him like a goad. 
Dry clash'd his harness in the icy caves 
355 And barren chasms, and all to left and right 

The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based 
His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang 
Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels — 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 109 

And on a sudden, lo! the level lake, 
360 And the long glories of the winter moon. 

Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge. 
Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern, 
Beneath them; and descending they were ware 
That all the decks were dense with stately forms, 

3C5 Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream — by tliese 

Three Queens * with crowns of gold : and from tliem rose 
A cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars. 
And, as it were one voice, an agony 
Of lamentation, like a wind that shrills 

370 All night in a waste land, where no one comes. 
Or hath come, since the making of the world. 

Then murmur'd Arthur, '' Place me in the barge." 
So to the barge they came. There those three Queens 
Put forth their hands, and took the King, and wept. 

375 But she, that rose the tallest of them all 
And fairest, laid his head upon her lap. 
And loosed the shattered casque, and chafed his hands, 
And caird him by his name, complaining loud, 
And dropping bitter tears against a brow 

380 Striped with dark blood : for all his face was white 
And colorless, and like the withered moon 
Smote by the fresh beam of the springing east; 
And all his greaves and cuisses dash'd with drops 
Of onset; and the light and lustrous curls — 

385 That made his forehead like a rising sun 

High from the dais-throne — were parch 'd with dust. 
Or, clotted into points and hanging loose, 
Mix'd with the knightly growth that fringed his lips. 
So like a shatter'd column lay the King: 

390 Not like that Arthur who, with lance in rest, 

1 See Gareth and Lynette, 1. 225. 



110 THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 

From spur to plume a star of tournament, 
Shot thro' the lists at Camelot, and charged 
Before the eyes of ladies and of kin;^s. 

Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere: 
305 " Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go ? 
Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? 
For now I see the true old times are dead, 
When every morning brought a noble chance. 
And every chance brought out a noble knight. 
400 Such times have been not since the light that led 
The holy elders' with the gift of myrrh. 
But now the whole Kound Table is dissolved 
Which was an image of the mighty world. 
And I, the last, go forth companionless, 
405 And the days darken round me, and the years. 
Among new men, strange faces, other minds." 

And slowly answer'd Arthur from the barge: 
^' The eld order changeth, yielding place to new. 
And God fulfils himself in many ways, 

410 Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. ^ 
Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me? 
I have lived my life, and that which I have done 
May He within himself make pure! but thou, 
IC thou shouldst never see my face again, 

415 Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer 
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice 
Rise like a fountain for mo night and day. 
For what are men better than sheep or goats 
That nourish a blind life within the brain, 

420 If, knowing God, they lift not hands of praj^er 

Both for themselves and those who call them friend? 

1 The Wise Men of the East, who brought gifts to the infant Jesus, 

2 The King begins to understanl whj' he co.ild not make everything quite perfect. 



THE PASSIN'G OF ARTHUR. Ill 

For so the whole round earth is every way" 
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. 
But now farewell. I am going a loug way 

425 With these thou seest — if indeed I go 

(For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) — 
To the island-valley of Avilion; ' 
Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow. 
Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies 

430 Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns 
And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea. 
Where I will heal me of my grievous wound." 

So said he, and the barge with oar and sail 
Moved from the brink, like some f nil-breasted swan 

435 That, fluting a wild carol ere her death. 

Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood 
With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere 
Revolving many memories, till the hull 
Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn, 

440 And on the mere the wailing died away. 

But when that moan had past forevermore," 
The stillness of the dead world's winter dawn 
Amazed him, and he groan'd, " The King is gone." 
And therewithal came on him the weird rhyme, 
445 *' From the great deep to the great deep he goes." ^ 

Whereat he slowly turned and slowly clomb. 
The last hard footstep of that iron crag; 
Thence mark'd the black hull moving yet, and cried, 
" lie passes to be King among the dead, 
450 And after healing of his grievous wound 

> Malory calls it the vale of Avilion and thinks of it as near Glastonbury. But the 
earlier conception was a mystic island to the west, as is described in the lines following. 
' The end, from this point on, was added in the later version. 
8 See The Coming of Arthur y 1. 410, and 11. 358-3J3. 



112 THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 

He comes again; but — if he come no more — 
me, be yon dark Queens in yon black boat, 
Who shriek'd and wail'd, the three whereat we gazed 
On that high day, when, clothed with living light, 
455 They stood before his throne in silence, friends 
Of Arthur, who should help him at his need ? " * 

Then from the dawn it seem'd there came, but faint 
As from beyond the limit of the world. 
Like the last echo born of a great cry, 
4G0 Sounds, as if some fair city were one voice 
Around a king returning from his wars. 

Thereat once more he moved about, and clomb 
Ev'n to the highest he could climb, and saw. 
Straining his eyes beneath an arch of hand, 
465 Or thought he saw, the speck that bare the King, 
Down that long water opening on the deep 
Somewhere far off, pass on and on, and go 
From less to less and vanish into light. 
And the new sun rose bringing the new year, 

» See The Coming of Arthur, 11. 272-278. 



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